The Sword and the Gun
by 08joanna
Summary: Immediately post "Perils of Paranoia," House reflects on his past and decides it's time to call his mother.
1. Chapter 1

House returned the gun to its old box and reached up to put it back on the top shelf of the closet. He saw the sword there, and took it down. He pulled it out of its sheath and read the engraved inscription – John House. So many memories flooded back at the sight of that name.

John treasured the sword. It was one of his most prized possessions, a tangible reflection of his valiant military career and the esteem of his fellow Marines. After the funeral, Blythe asked House which of his father's things he might like to have, and this and the gun were the only ones he requested. Blythe immediately agreed, and so they wound up in the apartment in Princeton, relics of a former life and symbols of the proud and brutish man who had owned them.

When Greg was young, John showed off these weapons to him once in a while, but Greg was never allowed to touch them. House vividly remembered the look in his father's face when he brandished the sword and the gun. It was a mixture of pride and arrogance, as if the mere fact of having them was proof of what a powerful man he was - powerful in his job, and, lest Greg forget it, powerful over his son. Despite the fear John's attitude was designed to instill, Greg still loved looking at the sword and the gun. For all the reasons Greg hated his father – and there were many – he couldn't help admiring John at the same time. This ambivalence confused him as a child, because all the military trappings, and the implied bravery that went along with them, were also part of who his father was, and sometimes he couldn't help but be proud of that.

Until he grew up, that is, and learned more about what had really gone on in Vietnam, a war which his father had been proud to wage. Until he grew up, and decided for himself that blind patriotism was just as stupid as racism or homophobia. Until he grew up, and knew for a fact that John couldn't have been his biological father, long before he had the chemical proof of it. Until he grew up, and realized beyond a shadow of a doubt that what John called discipline was actually abuse that no child should have to endure.

House returned the sword to its place on the top shelf, and went back into the living room. He sat on the leather couch, lost in thought. Maybe the time had finally come to get some answers. His mother knew he'd gone to prison, of course, but he'd specifically asked her not to visit – no need for the elderly woman to travel up from Kentucky just to get upset and depressed by seeing her only child in such a place. He'd also recently let her know that he was finally free, but had been avoiding any extended conversations with her and rejecting her suggestion that she come for a visit. It was just too hard – all of it, and avoiding emotionally hard situations had become second nature to him over the years. But he was starting to realize that he couldn't avoid her forever, and the thought suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't put it off indefinitely. Blythe was getting older, and she wouldn't be around forever. If he wanted answers he needed to deal with her while her memory was still intact.

He slowly pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number. One ring, two, three. He chickened out suddenly and didn't want to leave a message. He was about to hang up when she picked up after the fourth ring.

"Hello," Blythe said. No caller ID, Greg immediately thought. She didn't know it was him. He could still hang up. "Who's there?" she asked.

Finally he said, "Hi, Mom. It's me."

"Greg? Is that really you?" He could hear the excitement in her voice.

"Yeah, it's me. Just wanted to see how you've been."

"I'm okay," she replied. "It's so good to hear from you! How are you doing?"

"Well, I got funding to hire a full team, so I'm getting back to being pretty busy at work."

"That's wonderful, darling. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Is that really what you're calling about? Or have you reconsidered a visit? You know, it's been so long. I really do want to see you."

"I know. About that – I guess we could plan a visit sometime soon."

"Can you come here for Christmas?"

He certainly didn't want to mention the ankle monitor, so instead said, "I'm not sure. We never know when a patient will keep us close to the hospital, even on holidays."

"Well, I could come up there instead. Whenever you think would be convenient, Greg."

"Let me think about it. I'll let you know."

"Are you really okay? I worry about you."

"I'm fine, Mom. We'll talk more when we see each other, okay?"

"Sure. I look forward to it, Greg."

"I'll be in touch. I promise."

"I'll hold you to it."

"Okay. Gotta go now, Mom. Take it easy."

"You too, honey. I love you. You know that, right?"

"Love you too, Mom. Bye."

He hung up and ran a hand over his face. Why the hell had he done that? Now he'd really have to see her. Could this time be any different from every other time? Could he find the courage to actually talk to her about more than the weather or the state of her health? Could he bring up the past, John's abuse, and his questions about his biological father? He knew he needed to do it. But knowing it and actually doing it were two very different things. He thought again about the sword and the gun – symbols of strength, both menacing and comforting, in an odd way. That's all he needed to do this – strength. He thought of the long days and longer nights during the ten months in prison. If he could get through that, then it surely shouldn't be impossible to have an honest conversation with an elderly woman who did, after all, still love him. Strength. Find it, House, he told himself. Just find it.


	2. Chapter 2

House let another week go by without contacting Blythe, and she knew he'd keep stalling unless she pushed the issue. So she called him in mid-December, and suggested coming for Christmas. He finally relented, and she drove up to Princeton on the Friday before the holiday. Not wanting to bother him at work, she showed up in the late afternoon and met him at the hospital, as he'd agreed, in time for dinner. She walked into his office, and saw him sitting at the desk reading a file. The outer office was empty, which hopefully meant his team had all left for the weekend and there was no current patient who would monopolize his time.

House looked up as she entered, slipped off his reading glasses, and stood to greet her.

"Hi Mom," he said, as she enveloped him in an extended hug. "How was your trip?"

She finally released him and stepped back to look at him. "Quite a bit of traffic, but of course everyone's going somewhere today. I stopped twice to stretch and take a break, so it was fine."

"Thanks for coming. I know it's a long drive."

"Oh, it's no bother. I really wanted to see you. You look good, honey." She glanced at the outer office again. "I noticed no one else is around. Do you not have a current patient?"

"No, we do, but we just figured out the diagnosis this afternoon, and treatment's been started, so I should be free for the weekend."

"That's great. I was hoping we could both relax and have a nice visit."

"Let me just get my things together, and we can head out."

"Where do you want to go for dinner?"

Here it comes, he thought. The first hard truth he'd have to reveal to her. "Actually, I thought we could pick up some takeout and eat at home."

Blythe looked disappointed, but said, "Well, okay, if you want. But I would like to go out. You know, it's a holiday, and we could make it special, with no cleanup for us at home."

He quickly looked down at his leg, and then said, "The restaurants will all be jammed tonight, though."

Blythe knew he loved to eat out, and this reaction seemed strange to her, but she wanted everything to go smoothly with him on this visit, so she just nodded and said, "Okay."

House sighed and looked away from her. He obviously had to tell her about the ankle monitor at some point, because of course she'd wonder why they'd be tethered pretty much to his apartment for her whole visit.

"Look, Mom, there's something I should tell you." He pulled his leg up onto the desk chair and revealed the monitor. "They put this on when I left prison, and I have to wear it for another few weeks."

"Is that one of those tracking devices?"

"Yes. I'm supposed to be only at work or at home. That's why we can't go out. I'm sorry."

She looked at him sympathetically and said, "That's okay, Greg. You're right about the crowds tonight, too. Eating at your place is fine."

"Thanks for understanding, Mom."

They left the hospital, stopped quickly to pick up some Indian take-out, and arrived at House's apartment. Of course, House hadn't put up a tree or done any sort of Christmas decorating, but he had tidied up the place a little in advance of her visit. It had been a very long time since Blythe had been inside his home, and she looked around as they entered, as if taking in his surroundings would clue her in somehow to her enigmatic son. She walked over to the piano and touched the surface gently.

"Seeing this reminds me of how wonderful it always was to hear you play. Do you still play much?"

"Pretty much every day, if I have the time. Maybe after we eat, I can give you a little concert."

"Oh, that would be great! I'd really enjoy hearing you play again."

They got through dinner with more small talk, and House relished the chance to play piano for a while and thereby not have to keep up his end of the conversation. He was trying to psych himself up, to find a way of bringing up the subjects he wanted to raise with her, and he knew that the longer he delayed, the less likely he was to ever start. But how to start? That was his dilemma. Blythe had casually asked about his work during dinner, and he thought of an opening.

After the short recital, when Blythe seemed relaxed and content, he looked over at her, took a deep breath, and said nonchalantly, "So, Mom, you asked what kind of cases I've been getting lately, but I forgot to mention I've also been doing a lot more clinic duty than I used to do."

"Why is that?" she asked.

"New boss," House said. "He's actually someone who used to work for me, so he's trying to demonstrate that he can keep me in line."

"If you've been doing a lot of clinic work, that can't be easy on your leg."

"It's usually okay; I get to sit a lot of the time. And it's pretty interesting sometimes – the strange ways people get injured, you know?"

"Like what?"

"Well, I had a guy the other day whose boss had marked the petty cash with silver nitrate, and the patient had evidence of it on his hands."

"That's amazing. How do you figure out something like that?"

House shrugged. "It's just instinct a lot of the time, and sometimes, the answers come to me out of the blue."

"You were always brilliant."

"Well, some of the clinic diagnoses are so obvious they don't take any brains at all."

"Such as?"

Here we go, House thought. Just dive in and see what happens. "Such as an 8-year-old boy I saw a while ago, with extensive bruising on his ribs, buttocks and thighs. The mother brought him in, worried about some rare blood disorder, but it was obviously not that."

"So what was it?"

"The father's 'discipline,' which of course the mother denied."

Blythe's face went pale, and she looked away from Greg. Finally she stammered, "Do you… do you see a lot of that?"

"Too much. It's more common than you might think." Time to drop the bomb. Looking directly at his mother's face, he quietly said, "Dad certainly wasn't alone in that."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Mom. You've always known, haven't you?"

"Greg, I know you and your father didn't get along, and I understood why – you were very different people and you never had much in common with him. I also know he disciplined you sometimes, but it was never enough to cause injuries like that."

"Do you really believe that, or is that just what you want to believe, Mom?"

"He loved you, honey. I know he had a hard time showing it, but he really did."

"You didn't answer my question, Mom."

Blythe looked as if she were about to cry. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"We don't have to, if it upsets you. But I'd like to talk about it. We've never talked about it, have we?"

"No, we haven't. I was hoping it was so far in the past that it wasn't necessary to talk about it."

"Mom, look at me, please. I want you to hear this. I don't blame you. I never blamed you. You were always a good mother and I love you. But that time I spent in jail, with lots of empty hours with nothing to do but think, I couldn't help but think about the past sometimes, and I want you to know about some things Dad did when you weren't around."

Blythe's tears were falling in earnest now. House pulled a tissue from a box on the end table next to the couch and handed it to her. When she was somewhat more composed, she said "Go on, please."

"I know you're aware of the wooden paddle he kept in the garage, but there was more. If he was especially angry about something I'd done, and you weren't home, he'd fill the bathtub with ice, turn the water on as cold as it could get, and make me get in and stay there until he said I could get out. He'd stay in the bathroom and make sure I didn't attempt to make the water warmer. Sometimes it was over ten minutes."

"I… I find that hard to believe."

"It's true. It happened fairly often, in fact. Remember your Wednesday night bridge games with the base women's group?"

"He made you do that once a week?"

"No, not every week. But if he had a gripe with me, yeah."

"Oh, God. I'm so sorry, Greg. What else?"

"A few times when you were away visiting Aunt Sarah, he locked me out of the house and made me sleep in the yard. Once it was during a snowstorm."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about these things when they were happening, Greg?"

"He threatened me. He told me if I said anything to you, the punishments would only get worse."

Blythe looked horrified. "He was … he was always a good husband to me. It's so hard to believe he was that cruel to you. Are you sure you're remembering it correctly?"

"Mom, I know he never let you see that side of him, but believe me, it was there."

"He probably thought it was necessary to discipline you. You could be a handful, you know?"

"Do you think that kind of treatment was necessary to discipline me? Really?"

"No, of course not. I should've known. It was my job to protect you. You should've told me, honey. Maybe I could've stopped it."

"I couldn't take that chance. If he'd ever mistreated you because of it, I would've blamed myself."

"That's crazy. It wasn't your fault."

"I know, but a kid in that situation has a lot of crazy thoughts. I didn't know what to do."

"I'm … I guess I only saw what I wanted to see. I'm so sorry, honey."

"Why do you think he treated me like that, Mom?"

"I don't know. He didn't understand you, I guess, not the way I did. You were so smart, and he just didn't know how to deal with you sometimes, I think."

"Is that all there was to it? Do you think he resented me for some other reason?"

Blythe shook her head. She looked miserable, near tears again, and House decided he'd gone far enough for one night. He just couldn't question John's paternity right now. He'd let what he'd already revealed to her sink in a little first. So instead he said, "I don't know either, Mom. His attitude was always a mystery to me."

"Have you ever told anyone else about these things, Greg? I mean, Stacy, maybe, or Lisa, or James?"

"No. Wilson knows that Dad and I had problems, but I've never given him many details. I did tell my doctor at Mayfield about some of it, though."

"That's good, honey. I'm glad you had someone to talk to about it."

"And now I've told you. I didn't mean to upset you, Mom, but I needed to tell you."

"It's okay, Greg. I'm glad you did. I don't know what else to say right now. I'm just so sorry." She reached out to touch his arm, and he took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"I know, Mom."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I resisted writing this scene for quite a while, because I'm sure that canon will eventually give us some answers about who House's father really is, and I doubt TPTB will go in the direction I have. But I couldn't resist, because this is the crux of everything, the truth that defines the character in so many ways. Hope you enjoy it. Happy Holidays.**

The rest of Blythe's visit was surprisingly enjoyable for House, despite the circumstances. They didn't stray far from the apartment, and they hadn't directly spoken much more about the past, but there was a new tacit understanding between them, and House didn't feel as tense around her as he sometimes had during prior visits. For her part, Blythe was of course very upset about what Greg had revealed, even though she ultimately had to admit to herself that the abuse hadn't come as a total surprise, though the details of it still shocked her. She'd tried during this visit to stay upbeat, and took the opportunity to make some of Greg's favorite meals. She felt that she needed to make up somehow for her perceived failure to protect him from John, even though she hoped Greg didn't view her that way.

On the morning of the day she was scheduled to leave, the two of them were playing Scrabble, something they'd always enjoyed doing together in Greg's youth. Blythe's vocabulary was extensive, and she regularly solved difficult crossword puzzles, so she was a worthy opponent, although House was winning the current game. At one point he saw the word "pat" on the board and had the letters to turn it into "paternity." How ironic, he thought. Did he dare to make this word? Maybe it was finally time to get to the bottom of things. He placed the tiles on the board and glanced up at his mother's face. She responded by giving him a strange look.

"What?" House asked. "It's spelled correctly."

"Oh, I'm not challenging it. It's a perfectly legitimate word," she said, and then looked mortified at the phrasing of her response.

"But I'm a perfectly illegitimate son, aren't I?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Mom, we can be honest with each other now, can't we? I mean, we've been more honest in the last couple days than we've ever been, right?"

"Of course. I want you to be able to talk to me about anything, honey."

"Well, you're not gonna like what I'm about to say, but I have to say it." He took a deep breath and finally stated simply, "When I was twelve, I figured out that Dad probably wasn't my biological father, and now I know it for a fact."

Blythe stared at him, dumbfounded. House expected her to deny it, but she didn't say anything for several long moments, and stared down at her hands.

"Mom, did you hear what I just said?"

"Yes." She finally looked up at him. "How did you know?"

"Well, there were several clues, but the main one is that he was on maneuvers off Okinawa when I had to have been conceived. By the time he returned you were probably already over a month pregnant. Did you lie to him about the dates?"

"This is very hard for me to talk about, Greg, but you deserve the truth. I want you to know the truth."

"Good. I'm listening."

"I … I was …" Blythe couldn't get the words out, and looked away from him, covering her face with her hands.

House leaned over the table and touched her arm. "It's okay, Mom. Take your time."

When she'd composed herself a little, she said, "He was gone so often in the early months of our marriage, and I was alone on the base, far away from my own family. I was so lonely, Greg, and so young, just 21. I knew it was wrong, of course, but there was a man, a very friendly and kind man, who started spending time with me, and one evening we both just, well, made a mistake."

"The minister, right?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"We have similar birthmarks on our scalps."

"Oh, God – you thought he was your father?"

"Yeah. He isn't?"

"No, Greg."

"Then who is?"

"You've never met him. He was another marine, someone who was only on that base for a short time. John never met him either."

"I want to know his name."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Greg."

"Why? Is he still alive? Did you tell him you'd never give me his name?"

"He doesn't know you exist. He was gone before it was obvious I was pregnant, and I never told him. I believe he's still alive, but I'm not really sure. Greg, I'm so sorry – I know you want answers, and you deserve answers, but I just don't think I can give them to you."

"Did Dad know he wasn't my biological father?"

At that question, Blythe teared up. "This is so hard, honey."

"I know. I just want the truth, Mom."

"When he came back from Asia, I didn't know what to do. I was so ashamed and scared. He was so happy to see me, I felt horrible. We had sex right away, of course, and soon after I told him I was pregnant. He was thrilled, and he was so good to me throughout the pregnancy. You were full term, but I told him you were a month premature, even though at eight and half pounds, that seemed unlikely. He believed me, though, I think, and he loved you, but then..."

"Then what?"

"As you grew up, he seemed to get suspicious about things. I don't know. Sometimes he'd say strange things, like you didn't look like him or anyone else in his family. Or he'd say that he couldn't understand why you were so musically talented, since everyone in his family was tone-deaf. But he never actually confronted me about it, and I never told him."

"I told him what I thought."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Remember that summer he didn't speak to me, Mom? Did you ever wonder what brought that on?"

"I thought he was just angry that you were missing curfew too often, but he never gave me any details."

"He'd been mistreating me for a long time by then, and I was getting bigger and decided I just wouldn't take it anymore. I was really mad at him one day and told him I knew he wasn't my father."

"What did he say?"

"He seemed hurt by what I'd said, of course, but he told me I was crazy. He said it wasn't true and that he'd show me who was in charge. He stopped talking to me after that, for two months, but every night he'd stick a note under my bedroom door with a list of chores to be done the following day and a warning that if I didn't do them, I could expect to be punished. He never told you any of this?"

"No. He kept a lot hidden, obviously, but I'm sure he was very hurt by it and probably did come to accept the truth at some point. He never stopped loving me, though. I can't believe what I did to him, and to you. I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself."

After several long moments of awkward silence, Blythe then asked, "You said you now know for sure that he wasn't your father. How?"

This was the question Greg had been dreading. Could he actually tell Blythe the truth about this? She was so upset already. He thought about it for a moment and then opted for a slightly kinder version of the truth.

"I did a DNA test, after the funeral."

"A DNA test on what?"

"When I went up to the coffin, I saw a strand of his hair on his uniform, and I took it for the test. I had to know for sure one way or the other, and I knew it was my last chance."

"You can do a DNA test on a strand of hair?"

"Yes." She didn't need to know about the tiny piece of ear lobe he'd actually used for the test.

"How did you feel when you found out?"

"I thought I'd feel relieved, or vindicated, somehow, but actually, knowing for sure didn't really change anything. He was still my father in all the ways that mattered, and I realized that nothing could ever change that, or how I felt about him. I don't need or even really want to meet the other man, Mom, but it's important to me, medically, to find out about him. His nationality, for one thing, and his medical history. Maybe it would explain some things. Maybe there's a history of vascular aneurysms or blood clots in his family, or problems with drug addiction. I'd just like to know more about him."

"I don't even know how to find him, Greg."

"There are military records. It's easy. Just tell me his name, please."

Blythe hesitated, and then said, "Let me do some digging myself first, Greg. If I find out he's still alive and there's a way to get info about him without telling him about you, I'll give you whatever I find out."

"Why is this such a problem, Mom? I have no intention of showing up on his doorstep and declaring myself his son."

"I know, but it's still very awkward. What if he somehow found out we were asking about him?"

"Mom, this is important to me. If you can't find out anything, please let me take over." Blythe nodded. "For now, can you at least tell me his nationality?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, honey. We never discussed it. But I can tell you that he had a Scottish surname."

"Scottish? Hmm. I wasn't expecting that. So I'm at least part Dutch from your side and part Scottish. Might explain my penchant for Scotch." Greg chuckled, and Blythe smiled at him sadly. "Find out what you can, Mom, please."

"I will, honey. And if I can't, I'll tell you everything I know and let you take it from there."

"Thanks."

"Well, I guess I should be getting ready to leave soon."

"I'm glad you came, Mom. It was good to see you. I hope I didn't upset you too much."

At that Blythe got up and gave him a hug. "Oh, Greg," she said. "I'm glad we got this all out in the open. It was hard, but a lot of things worth doing are hard, aren't they?"

"Yeah, they are. I love you, Mom."

"You're incredible. I'm so proud that you're my son."

"I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, and I'm sorry about all of that."

"So have I, darling. Nobody's perfect."

"Then I guess we should both try to forgive ourselves and move on, okay?"

"I'll try, Greg."

"So will I, Mom."


	4. Chapter 4

House gave his mother a few weeks to do her own research, though he doubted she'd actually be able to find out what he wanted to know. He'd spoken to her often since she'd left, but she hadn't mentioned anything more on the subject of his biological father by late January, and he was getting somewhat peeved about the situation. He understood her reluctance, of course. She'd always hated confrontation and had been the calming center in the constant storm between her husband and son. Despite the truth about her son's paternity, she also still thought of herself as a very private and proper woman, and was loath to rock the boat in any way. So, it came as somewhat of a shock when she called one evening and raised the subject herself. She told him she'd discovered that Greg's father was indeed still alive and living in Boston. He was 76, and had become a marine in 1958.

"Please don't tell me he was a career soldier," House replied.

"No, he wasn't. It turns out he went to law school after his years in the military."

"Law school? Where?"

"Duke."

"So, he was pretty bright, huh?"

"Yes, honey. When I knew him he was only 23, but he was very intelligent and interested in lots of subjects."

"What about in science?"

"Not so much. He was more into politics and history. He said he'd joined the marines because he wanted to travel and see the world. I also saw an obituary for a woman I believe was his wife, so I guess he's now a widower."

"How did you find out these things?"

"I Googled him. Several people with his name came up, but I'm pretty sure I found the right one by process of elimination. There's something about nearly everyone on there."

"I know, but unfortunately just the basics. I'd still like to find out more."

"I figured you'd say that."

"So, you know the next question, Mom. What's his name?"

Blythe took a long, audible breath. "It's Andrew MacLaren. Everyone called him Andy when I knew him."

"MacLaren?"

"Yes. I remember him saying that his father's family was Scottish. I don't know anything about his mother or her family."

"What does he look like? I mean, back then, what did he look like?"

"I don't even have a photo of him I can show you. I wish I did. Let's see – he was tall, about six feet, I think. He had reddish-brown hair, a little lighter than yours but with the same wavy texture."

"Were his eyes blue?"

"Yes. Not as intensely blue as yours. They were a darker shade of blue."

"So, you really don't know anything else? You haven't had any contact with him over all these years?"

"No, Greg. We were both very young and after he left I thought it best not to stay in touch with him at all."

"Okay. Thanks for the info, Mom. I'm sure it was out of your comfort zone to do that."

"You're welcome, honey. I know it isn't much, but it's a start, at least."

"Just knowing his name is the biggest thing. I can go from there."

"It must have been a weird feeling for you – knowing you weren't actually a House and not knowing anything about half of your biological heritage."

"Yeah. I've always wondered whether I was really German, like Dad's family, or something else. When I thought the minister was my father, I figured I was probably part Polish."

"From his name, I can understand that. But I think it's actually a Czech name, Greg."

"Shows how little I knew, even about him. I always liked him. That's probably why I latched onto the birthmark and picked him to obsess about."

"He is a nice man. He was very kind to me after John died, checking up several times to see how I was doing."

"I'm sorry I wasn't more supportive when he died, Mom. For your sake, I mean."

"I was hurt by it at the time, but now I understand better, honey. I shouldn't have insisted that you deliver a eulogy. Even without knowing the specifics of the abuse, I knew you and he never got along, and you shouldn't have had to do that. I guess it just seemed appropriate. I wanted my friends to see you and have you pay tribute to John – I was too concerned with appearances. It's no wonder you said what you did."

"I didn't know what to say. The whole way there, in the car with Wilson, I kept thinking about the way he'd treated me and just didn't want to show up at all." House laughed. "I actually did things to deliberately delay the trip, and that's why we were late. I never told you that, did I?"

"No. Did James finally convince you to come?"

"Not really. But it was his car and he was in control of the situation, so ultimately I didn't really have much choice in the matter."

"He's a good friend, though, isn't he? I mean, I hope you didn't hold that against him."

"No. He's still my best friend, Mom."

"But you've never told him the details of how John treated you?"

"No."

"Why, Greg? Are you ashamed of it?"

"It's not that. I just … I never wanted him to feel sorry for me, more than he already did, that is."

"What do you mean?"

"He's seen me in bad shape, physically, way too often. That's enough of a drag. I guess I didn't want him knowing too much about Dad, because then he might see me as even more screwed up than he already thinks I am, and decide that I'm not worth the trouble anymore."

"Oh, Greg – I don't think he'd ever do that. He's a very compassionate person."

"Yeah. Too compassionate sometimes. I just want him to enjoy being friends with me, not look at me with those oncology-doctor sympathetic eyes or grow to resent me. He's one of the only people I can really relax with, you know?"

"Yes. I know he's been a wonderful friend to you. I just think it might've helped if you could've spoken to a friend about all this, even more than telling it to your psychiatrist."

"Well, now I can talk to you about it. Believe it or not, that feels good, Mom."

"For me too, Greg. It's a relief that we're finally being honest with each other. I'm sorry we waited so long to do it. That was my fault."

"No more than mine. But I knew I couldn't say anything while Dad was still alive, or soon after he died. You wouldn't have been willing to tell me the truth then, would you?"

"Probably not, especially during the last year of his life, when he was so sick. Thank you for waiting, Greg. You've been kinder to me than I deserve."

"Don't say that, Mom. You deserve a lot. You made my life bearable when I was a kid. You always encouraged me and praised my accomplishments. You taught me piano and came to all my games and smoothed things over with numerous teachers in numerous schools who didn't understand me. You were a great mom."

"I tried. You were a great kid – challenging, of course, but always so much fun to be around. Watching you grow and learn was the highlight of my life."

"Mom, do you want me to let you know if I find out more about my father?"

"Yes, I'd like that. Though if you decide you want to meet him, you're on your own. I just don't think I could face him after all these years."

"I understand, Mom. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, honey. Good luck with it."

**(Author's Note: By the way, I chose the name MacLaren because it's the Scottish clan from which the name Laurie is derived - just a little nod to the actor's real heritage.)**


	5. Chapter 5

In the next few weeks House did his own research. His methods were clever and borderline illegal, involving use of his arsenal of various accents in phone conversations and employing many of the tactics and strategies he'd used over the years to dig up juicy tidbits about his staff. He'd discovered that Andy MacLaren had stayed in the Marines long enough to serve one tour of duty in Vietnam, but, luckily for him, it was in the early years before the war had heated up. There was no record of any injury there, and he'd returned and entered law school by the mid '60s. The Duke Alumni website revealed a few choice nuggets, such as Andy's involvement in the nascent Civil Rights movement on campus and notoriety for his sax solos in a local jazz band. House couldn't help but think that John would roll over in his grave if he knew that Greg's biological father had been something of a protestor in his day, and apparently musical to boot. Everything House could find on the man from the late '60s on seemed to be centered in the Boston area, and he saw the same obit that Blythe had found, for a woman named Eleanor MacLaren (nee Connolly). They called her Ellie, and she'd died in 2007 after a stroke, at the age of 70. There was mention of a daughter, Colleen, and two grandchildren, Drew (named after his grandfather, most likely) and Carly, so House now knew he had a half-sister, nephew and niece somewhere.

There were some published articles mentioning Andy's law career, as he'd been a fairly prominent defense lawyer in Boston for many years before retiring in his late 60s. House tried to follow up surreptitiously with some of the colleagues mentioned in these sources, but that didn't yield many more details. As for medical history, he used some creative methods to get around patient confidentiality issues, but still didn't find anything linking Andy to any of the medical issues House had faced. In fact, it seemed Andy had been remarkably healthy most of his life, and the doctor he'd seen most consistently in the last few years was a specialist in osteoarthritis, a common ailment of an aging man.

Despite the still scant info House had acquired, his vivid imagination couldn't help but obsess over the life of Andy MacLaren. What had he really been like as a young man, and how had he swept the prim and proper newlywed Blythe House off her feet? Had he really become radicalized in the 60s, or was that just a passing phase during his college years? Was Ellie the love of his life, or had he been a ladies' man who'd slept with other married women besides Blythe? Did he have siblings who were still alive? What kind of father had he been to Colleen? Was his sax playing just a youthful hobby, or was music still a vital part of his life, the way it was for House? House knew, deep down, that getting answers to these questions wasn't really possible without meeting the man himself, and being upfront about his reason for wanting to know, but he'd told Blythe he didn't intend to do that, and he felt that he couldn't go any further without filling her in and getting her blessing. He owed her that, at least, for finally telling him the truth about Andy. So he called her one evening and brought her up to speed on his findings.

"That's very interesting, honey," Blythe said after his extended narration. "I had no idea he played the saxophone."

"After everything I just said, that's what stood out to you – that he played the saxophone?"

"Well, yes, because I didn't know that about him, and it could explain why you were such a musical prodigy."

"But you're musical, too, Mom. You're quite good on the piano."

"Not like you. Nothing like you, in fact. By the time you were eight or nine you were already playing pieces it would've taken me weeks of practice to master."

"Well, let's face it – you're not exactly impartial about my talents, such as they are."

"What can I say? You're my boy and I was thrilled with everything you did."

"Back then, maybe. I know you're not thrilled with what I've done lately."

"Greg, you turned yourself in and you've done your time. I still find it hard to understand why you did what you did, but you've paid the price for it, and I know you're sorry about it."

"I am, actually, even if no one here believes it. And Cuddy, of course, she'll probably never believe it."

"Have you heard anything about her lately, honey? I mean, I know she hasn't contacted you, but through other people, maybe?"

"If they know anything, they're not telling me. I'm sure anyone she's stayed in touch with has strict instructions not to say anything to me."

"Well, then it's probably best to just let her get on with her life."

"That's what I'm doing. Look, Mom - back to the subject of Andy."

"Yes?"

"I'd really like to know more about him than what I've been able to find out. I'm thinking of going to Boston and trying to meet him. I know I said that wasn't my plan, but I've been seriously considering it, and I don't want to wait too much longer. He's not getting any younger, you know?"

"I won't tell you not to do it, Greg, but of course it makes me very anxious to think about it. What would you tell him?"

"I'd like to find a way to do it without revealing who I am, but that may not be possible. Just so you know, I may wind up telling him the truth." There was silence on the other end of the phone for several long moments. "Mom, did you hear me? What are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, honey. I'm not sure what to say. I know you have every right to tell him, but I really wish you wouldn't. He'll probably be very shocked and very hurt by the fact that I kept this from him."

House seethed at that comment, and accusingly said, "So you're more concerned with his feelings than mine?"

"Of course not, Greg. I'm sorry if it sounded like that. No, no – you just… just do what you feel you have to do."

"I may not do anything, actually, but it's good to know you're okay with it if I do decide to go up there."

"You're the most important thing in the world to me, Greg. Please tell me you know that."

"Yeah, Mom, I do."

"Keep me posted, okay?"

"Will do. Bye for now."

"Bye, honey."

He hung up and leaned back into the couch. Did he really dare to do this? Could he come up with a way to do it that wouldn't traumatize both his mother and an elderly stranger? He was a creative guy, after all. Maybe there was a way. Or maybe honesty really was the best policy. He'd always believed in brutal honesty for his patients and everyone else. Was brutal honesty the only way to discover his true heritage? He decided to sleep on it, and mull it over, before taking the next step.


	6. Chapter 6

Upon completion of a mandatory six-month period, House's ankle monitor was finally removed in late February. He was now free to come and go as he pleased, and he relished in the simple pleasures of a night out with Wilson, a meal in a restaurant, or a long drive without any restrictions on his time or location. It also meant he was now free to go to Boston, if he chose. He'd chewed over this decision for weeks, but still couldn't seem to move forward with it. It wasn't that he really cared about how doing this would affect Andy's life, or even his mother's. He finally had to admit to himself that he was afraid of the finality that getting answers would bring. So long as Andy was just a name to him, with a few facts attached, House could fantasize all he wanted about what the man was really like. He could turn him into a rabble-rousing, sax-playing, brilliant defense attorney, the beloved father of a daughter who thought enough of him to name a child after him. Once he met the man, House knew the reality might not match this idealized vision. He so wanted Andy to be the polar opposite of John that he knew he'd be disappointed if that turned out not to be the case.

House had finally confided to Wilson, not about the details of John's abuse, but about what his mother had revealed about Andy, and what House himself had discovered. Wilson's response was to urge House to make the trip to Boston as soon as the monitor was removed, but even Wilson's encouragement hadn't yet sealed the deal for House. Wilson kept on him though, and House finally convinced himself that knowing was better than not knowing, even if the reality didn't live up to the fantasy. It would gnaw on him forever if he never met the man while he had the chance.

He'd managed to obtain a phone number through the White Pages website, and finally settled on a scenario for a call. He figured he'd try to gauge Andy's general personality first before making a decision about meeting him. One night he finally got up the nerve, pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed the number before he could let himself chicken out. On his first try the call went to voice-mail, and he hung up before leaving a message. He thought for a moment that maybe this was a sign he should reconsider the whole idea, but later that evening he tried again, and this time the phone was answered, by a gruff-sounding man.

"Hello," Andy said.

"Hi," House said. "Is this Andy MacLaren?"

"Yeah. Who's calling?"

"My name is Gregory Allen, sir, and I was wondering if you had a few moments to talk."

"About what? If you're a telemarketer or doing a survey, I'm hanging up right now."

"No, I'm neither of those. I'm an author, actually, writing a book about the early days of our involvement in Vietnam, and I'm trying to interview a large sampling of vets from that time period."

"Where'd you get my name, and how do you know I was in 'Nam?"

"I'm also involved with Duke's alumni association."

"Oh. I finally stopped getting calls from those people after ten years of refusing to donate to the school. I paid enough for my education. They don't need any more of my money."

"I'm not soliciting for them, Mr. MacLaren. I'd really just like to ask you a few questions about your time in Southeast Asia."

"Well, there's really not much to tell. I went in 1961 and only stayed a year. We were in Saigon, supposedly to train the South Vietnamese army, to avoid turning the 'police action' into a full-scale U.S. war. Obviously that didn't work out so well."

House chuckled under his breath. This guy was certainly blunt, and somewhat of a hoot. He sounded like he had opinions, and wasn't afraid to share them.

"Did you see much action?"

"No, not really. My outfit didn't go very far north or stay long enough to see any of the guerrilla warfare."

"What was the attitude of the South Vietnamese to the U.S. presence at that time? In your experience, I mean."

"We couldn't communicate with them as individuals, of course, so it was hard to tell. It was mostly weapons training, and even most of our commanders didn't speak the language, so it was kind of chaotic. Look, Mr. Allen, was it?"

"Yes."

"I really don't have time right now to get into a long discussion about this."

"That's okay. I would like to follow up with a visit at some point, if you'd be willing. Whenever it's convenient for you."

"I don't know."

"It wouldn't take much of your time, sir. Maybe half an hour."

"Well, I guess so. When could you come?"

"Maybe next weekend – Saturday afternoon. Would that work for you?"

"Okay. I'll give you my address."

"That's okay. I have it from the alumni association."

"Those people really keep track of everyone, don't they? Guess that's how they can afford such a ritzy campus - attempting to milk former students into giving, from the moment they graduate right up until they're ready for the graveyard."

"As I said, sir, I don't represent them, and that's not my intention."

"Yeah, right. Okay. So, next Saturday. Not before 2:00, please."

"That sounds fine to me. See you then, Mr. MacLaren."

"Bye."

House hung up and put down his phone, noticing that his hand was shaking slightly as he did so. That had been pretty intense, just hearing Andy's voice. He'd expected a Boston accent, but the man didn't sound like a native Bostonian. He really had no discernable accent that House could identify. It was his attitude that seemed so familiar, though. A kind of world-weary cynicism, to which House could so easily relate. They seemed to have quite a bit in common, at least as far as that went. He started planning his trip to Boston, with anticipation as well as trepidation.


	7. Chapter 7

When House told Wilson about his plans for Saturday, Wilson immediately offered to come along, more for moral support than anything else, though he knew long drives were hard on House and that sharing the driving would help as well. At first House said no, that he needed to do this himself, but the more he thought about it, the tenser he became, and by Thursday of that week he finally decided that having Wilson there could be a welcome distraction and would make the trip go faster.

They left around eight a.m. for the roughly five-hour drive, stopping twice on the way to give House a chance to walk around a little and stretch his legs. They kept the conversation on other subjects for most of the trip, but as they neared their destination, House started to get visibly nervous, and Wilson thought it might help to actually discuss what was obviously foremost on his mind.

"So, what's the plan when we get there?" Wilson asked.

"We talked about this yesterday, Wilson. I'll drop you off at a nearby diner and go on to his house on my own."

"I don't mean the logistics. I mean your plan, what you intend to say to him."

"I did some research on what happened in Vietnam during the time he was there, and I have a list of questions to ask him."

"And you're really gonna stick with that? What's the point of this whole trip if you don't get the real answers you want?"

"I figured I could lead up to those questions after I see how we get along."

"House, your pretense might work for learning plenty about his military career, but that's not what you really care about, is it?"

"Of course not." House looked miserably agitated by this point. "What the hell am I doing, Wilson? I really have no idea what to say to him."

"How about the truth? You've always been a big believer in it."

"And how do I do that? First of all, he thinks my name is Gregory Allen."

"So you turned your middle name into your last name. Big deal. You're supposed to be an author, right? Lots of authors use pseudonyms."

"There's no way to get to the truth without admitting that I lied to him before."

"Sure there is. Wanna hear my suggestion?"

"Could I stop you from giving it?"

"Nope."

"That's what I figured."

"Okay, here's how I see it. You can start out with your story from the phone conversation, and ask him a few things about the war, but then subtly lead the conversation to the reason you're writing the book."

"Which is?"

"Which is that you also come from a military family, and your father was seriously affected by his time in 'Nam."

"That's not really true."

"Isn't it? Isn't that part of the reason you and he didn't get along?"

House looked out the window and fidgeted in the passenger seat. He still didn't want to get too deeply into this subject with Wilson. He could fudge this, if he kept his answer general.

"There were lots of reasons we didn't get along, but, yeah, I guess the war did change him some."

"Right. So then maybe Andy will pick up on that and start to ask you more about your own family, which will lead to your mother, which will lead right to him."

"And when he figures out that I could be his son, I just act like it's a huge coincidence? Yeah, that's real believable."

"No. That's when you tell him the truth. After seeing his reaction to the possibility, that is."

"This sounds more convoluted than just telling him my real name as soon as I show up."

"Well, that's the other way you could go. But you risk giving an old man a heart attack or having him shut the door in your face. Your choice."

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can, House. We've come all this way, and I'm not letting you cop out now. Just try to relax. You'll figure it out when you get there. And if it turns out you can't tell him the truth, it still won't be a wasted trip. At least you will have met him. Think of it that way."

"Yeah. I'll get to see what I'll probably look like in my old age – that's if I manage to live to old age, which is by no means a sure bet. Whoop-de-doo."

"House, remember when you came with me after Danny was found?"

"Yeah, and bailed out on you."

"That's not the part I remember most. The most important thing is that you came. You knew what a critical moment that was in my life, and you knew I'd need someone to talk to – you, specifically."

"Yeah."

"Well, I know what a critical moment this is for you. You've been thinking about this since you were twelve years old, for God's sake. Any outcome is better than nothing, and any answers you get are better than the little you know now. And when it's over, I'll be here."

"That's true. If the whole thing goes horribly wrong, at least I won't be driving for five hours with no one to take my mind off of it."

"Just don't expect it to go horribly wrong, and it won't."

"Thanks, Wilson."

Wilson checked his GPS, and pointed up ahead. "The diner's supposed to be a mile or so from here. Watch for it."

"Yes, your lordship."

Wilson smiled at House, and pulled over to the right lane. "We'll eat, and then you'll drive over there and take care of business."

House gave him a mock salute. "My orders are duly noted, sir."


	8. Chapter 8

After lunch, Wilson gave House one last thumbs-up and then House left him in the diner, which was adjacent to a mall where Wilson could kill some time. House got into Wilson's Volvo, took a few deep breaths, and started driving the short distance to the address loaded into the GPS. Andy lived in the Boston suburb of Newton, on a street lined with older homes and mature trees. It was about 2:15 when House pulled up to the address and parked on the street next to a narrow one-car driveway. The home was a two-story Tudor, and House noticed peeling stucco near the roof, but otherwise the place seemed to be in pretty good shape for an older home. A small front yard sloped up to the front door, and a large oak tree, bare in the late winter, towered over the roofline.

House got out of the car and slowly made his way up the sloped walkway to the front door. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he forced himself to breathe deeply, trying to calm down. He rang the buzzer and waited. A minute or two went by, and House wondered whether Andy was even home. Maybe he'd forgotten the appointment. House was about to give up and leave, when he finally heard footsteps nearing the door. The door opened and there stood Andy MacLaren. Immediately House's overactive brain started registering every detail about the man. Andy was several inches shorter than House, probably no more than 5'10". Blythe had remembered him as taller, but maybe he was shrinking a little with age. He was trim, except for a slight pot belly. What hair he had was white, but he was nearly completely bald on top and in the front. He was clean-shaven except for a grey moustache, and his eyes, behind wire-rimmed bi-focal glasses, were a blue-gray color, a shade or two darker than House's. He wore a pair of faded black corduroys and a plaid flannel shirt. He eyed House quickly from head to toe, his gaze lingering momentarily on the cane.

House shifted his cane to his left hand and stuck out his right. "Hello, Mr. MacLaren. I'm Greg."

Andy shook House's hand and nodded. "Come on in. It's pretty cold out there."

House stepped into the foyer and removed his scarf, gloves, and coat. Andy motioned to a closet in the hallway and said, "There should be some room in there. If not, just toss them on the couch."

"Sure, thanks." As House stood in the hallway, Andy walked into the living room and sat in a large wing-back chair near a stone fireplace. House immediately noticed that his gait seemed rather stiff and he favored his left side slightly as he walked. The room looked lived-in and casual, with a well-worn couch, several easy chairs, and tall built-in shelving on either side of the fireplace, filled with books, photos and pottery. House hung up his coat and joined Andy in the living room, taking a seat on the couch.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. MacLaren."

"It's not like it was hard to fit you into my busy schedule," Andy said sardonically. "Retirement isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sorry it took me so long to get to the door. I was upstairs and my knees aren't in great shape."

"Oh, don't worry about it. It's not that cold out, and I certainly know what it's like not to be able to get around quickly."

"I've had arthritis for several years, and my doc thinks it's time to replace the left knee, but I'm resisting as long as I can. What happened to your leg?"

In House's experience, most people didn't ask this question upon meeting him. Everyone noticed, of course, that he had a problem, but political correctness or simple awkwardness usually kept them from mentioning it. He gave Andy props for having the guts to ask.

"I had an infarction in my thigh, and lost quite a bit of muscle."

"How long ago?"

"I was 39 when it happened, and I'm 52 now."

Andy looked at him sympathetically, and said, "Can't be easy to deal with at that age. I was lucky. Didn't start having this problem until just a few years ago."

House, of course, immediately went into doctor mode in his mind, and wanted to ask all sorts of questions, such as what medications Andy was on and what recent tests indicated about the state of his knees, but then he remembered that Andy didn't even know he was a doctor, and, for now, it had to stay that way.

"So, Mr. MacLaren…"

"You can call me Andy."

"Okay, Andy, before we get started, I wanted to give you a little background on the book I'm writing. I'm particularly interested in the early years of the war because I haven't found much written about that period from the soldiers' point of view, and I feel that what happened then is vital to understanding why it escalated into such a long-lasting and difficult war."

"It seems like ancient history to me, to be frank, and I really don't remember all that much. I mean, I'm happy to tell you whatever I can, but I'm not sure how helpful I can be."

"That's okay. Whatever you remember. Let's start with your decision to enlist."

"Well, let's see. I joined the Marines in 1958, right out of college."

"Where did you go as an undergraduate?"

"Rutgers. I applied and got into a couple of Ivy League schools, just to see if I could, but my family didn't have that kind of money, so I went to a state school."

"So you're from Jersey?"

"Yes. I grew up in Teaneck. You know where that is?"

"Close to the city, right?"

"Yeah, Bergen County. My dad commuted into Manhattan by bus for nearly all of his career."

"What did he do?"

"He was an accountant for an insurance company."

"What did you major in at Rutgers?"

"History."

"And why did you join the Marines after getting a BA?"

"I was restless, I guess. I'd never been very far from home and didn't have the money to travel on my own, so I figured I'd take a few years before deciding what I really wanted to do with my life and get to see things I wouldn't have otherwise. I was also athletic, and quite cocky about it, so the physical challenge of the military appealed to me. And when I joined up, Vietnam wasn't really on anyone's radar as a place to worry about."

"What sports did you play?"

"Football and baseball, mostly. I was a running back in college. In baseball, speed was always my strong-suit. I played the outfield and stole a lot of bases, but wasn't a great hitter. Thought I was at the time, though." Andy chuckled, and then looked at House inquisitively. "Guess none of this is really relevant to your book, huh?"

"No, it's fine. I like to find out as much as possible about everyone I interview. So, where did you do your training when you first joined up?"

"Camp Lejeune, North Carolina."

Here was House's opening. He could continue with his ruse, or take the conversation where he wanted it to lead. He could feel his palms get clammy and the blood pulsing through his veins. He decided to dive in head-first and just see what happened.

"Really? That's where I was born."

"Your dad was a Marine?"

"Yes. Actually, that's why I'm so interested in this subject. He was in Vietnam in the early 60's, and it really changed his whole life."

"How so?"

"He saw things that shocked him, I guess, and when he came back he had a hard time with regular life. He tended to see everything in military terms, if you know what I mean."

"Such as what?"

"Such as child-rearing, for one thing. I just want to understand how the war affected him and other guys in his generation, and studying and writing about this period seemed to be one way to do that."

"I knew a few guys like that. Guys who couldn't separate military life from civilian life. What's your dad's name? Maybe I knew him."

House swallowed hard and took a deep breath. "John House. He died a few years ago."

"House? Don't think I knew him, but…" A look of shocked recognition flashed across Andy's eyes, and then he stared at House.

"But you knew my mother, didn't you? Her name is Blythe."

"Didn't you say your name was Gregory Allen?"

"It's actually Gregory Allen House. I was born in June of 1959, and I now know for sure that John House wasn't my biological father."

House could see Andy's mind working behind those eyes. "And your mother thinks I am."

"No. She knows you are. You're the only one who could be."


	9. Chapter 9

Andy sat there in stunned silence for several moments, and then leaned forward and stared at House as if he was seeing him for the first time. He didn't say a word, and House finally broke the stalemate.

"Look, I'm not here because I want or expect anything from you. I just wanted to meet you and get answers to some of my questions. My mother only recently gave me your name. If you doubt what she's saying, and I can certainly understand why you would…"

"I don't doubt what she's saying."

"Really? Because she said it was just one night that you and she…"

"That's what she told you? It wasn't just one night. I was in love with her. I wanted her to leave her husband and marry me."

"How long did it go on?"

"It started out innocently enough. She was shy and very lonely and homesick when I first met her. We were just friends for a while. She said I made her laugh, and I saw her every chance I got. God, she was beautiful. When we took it further, she refused to keep seeing me at first, but then she kept coming back to me, and our physical relationship probably lasted at least a couple of months. We took precautions, most of the time, but I guess they weren't foolproof."

"Then what happened?"

"She broke it off. She said her husband would be coming back soon and she couldn't see me again. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she wouldn't listen, and that was the end. I left for maneuvers shortly after that and never saw her again. I can't believe she never told me she was pregnant."

"She couldn't. She never told her husband. She told him I was premature and he believed I was his son. He may have figured it out years later, but they never confronted each other about it. I had my own suspicions but didn't know for sure until I did a paternity test after he died. I'd be happy to do one on you if you have any doubts."

"You're not an author, are you?"

"Well, technically I am, but I'm not writing a book about the war. I've published a medical textbook and numerous articles. I'm a doctor. I'm sorry about the story I told to get here, but I couldn't think of any other way."

"A doctor? Where?"

"Princeton."

"So you drove all the way up from Jersey today to meet me?"

"Yeah."

House had been struck by Andy's relatively calm demeanor during this conversation, but that changed at this point. The reality of the situation seemed to hit him all at once, and he put his head in his hands and visibly shuddered, seeming almost near tears. House didn't say anything, giving him time to compose himself. Several minutes went by, and then Andy finally looked up at House again.

"I'm sorry," he said. "It's just … it's a lot to take in."

"I know. For me too. I'm still pretty shocked that you don't seem to have doubts about this."

"It's your eyes."

"What about them?"

"My Colleen has the same eyes."

"Your daughter?"

"Yes. My wife and I tried to have other children after her, but she miscarried several times. Both of us always wanted more, and she knew I was hoping for a son, but it just never happened for us again."

"How old is Colleen?"

"Forty-three."

"Does she live near here?"

"Providence. It takes about an hour. She tries to come up here often, but she has a busy life."

"Does she work?"

"Yes. She's a middle-school teacher. She stopped for several years when her kids were small, but they're older now."

"What are their ages?"

"Drew's fourteen, and Carly's twelve. They were pretty young when Ellie died – that's my wife. I wish she could see how they've grown. Do you want to see some pictures?"

"Yes, I would. I'd like that a lot."

Andy got up and slowly walked over to the bookshelf, bringing back three framed photos and handing them to House. Two of them were obviously quite old, and the other one looked recent.

Andy pointed to one of the older photos and said, "This was taken when Colleen was just starting school." House stared at the face of a five-year-old girl, his half-sister. She had curly blonde hair, freckled cheeks, a mischievous grin, and bright blue eyes flecked with white.

"I can see what you mean about the eye color," House said. "She was a cute kid."

"She was a little doll," Andy said wistfully. He pointed to the newer photo. "This is her whole family, from just last year." A middle-aged couple stood behind two children in this one. Colleen was still blonde, though a darker shade than in childhood, and quite attractive, House thought. Her husband had a much darker complexion and dark brown hair, and both kids looked more like him than her.

"What's her husband's name?" House asked.

"Nick Binetti. He's Italian."

"What does he do?"

"He's an engineer."

House looked at the third picture, a black and white of a young couple at the beach, obviously Andy and Ellie. "This was soon after we were married."

Andy was a strapping young guy in this photo, with a lean, muscular frame. He was in swimming trunks, holding his wife in his arms and looking as if he were about to throw her in the ocean. Ellie was a slim, petite blonde, her hair blowing in the ocean breeze.

"She was lovely," House said.

"Yeah, in every way. I never thought I'd outlive her. It's … well, it's not easy, being alone after so many years together. Are you married, Greg?"

"No."

"Never?"

"No. I came close a couple of times, but, turns out, I'm not an easy guy to live with."

"Tell me more about yourself."

"Well, I was also athletic, before the leg, that is. I ran and played lacrosse."

"You're a tall guy. No basketball or football?"

"Not much. Those were what my father would've preferred for me, and I tended to choose the opposite of what he wanted."

"You didn't get along with him?"

"No, not very well. Mom was great, though. She taught me how to play piano when I was very young, and it's become a lifelong passion."

"I used to play the sax in a band. I really enjoyed it, and it drove the girls crazy."

"But you didn't keep it up?"

"Nah. I got too busy with work and family."

"So, your family is Scottish? Mom's is Dutch, but I never knew my nationality from the other side, obviously."

"Yeah. My dad was first generation, and his parents emigrated from Glasgow in the late 1890's."

"Was your mother also Scottish?"

"I never knew her full background, and I'm not sure she did either. Her maiden name was Jane Williams, and she could've had all sorts of combinations in her ancestry. She liked to tease my father that her family came over on the Mayflower, but I really don't think she had any idea how far back they went."

"Did you have any siblings?"

"Yeah, one older brother. He's gone now. What about you?"

"No, I'm it. I'm sure they tried, and I know my Mom lost one pregnancy when I was around six. Maybe if they'd had another, things would've been different with me and my dad."

"How so?"

"I don't know. Sharing the attention might've taken some of the pressure off of me. And, if he ever did figure out that I probably wasn't his kid, having one of his own might've made him less angry about it."

"You think he knew you weren't his?"

"I don't know for sure. It would explain a lot, though, if he did." All of a sudden it dawned on House that he was telling Andy more than he'd intended. He really hadn't come here to bare his soul to a relative stranger. Relative stranger – what an ironic phrase to pop into his head. Andy was a stranger, but he was also a relative, and in a matter of minutes House felt more comfortable with him than he'd ever felt with John.

"How is your mother doing, Greg? Is she well?" Andy then asked.

"Yes. She's quite healthy for her age."

"What about losing her husband? How is she managing being alone?"

"I think she's adjusted well. She has a lot of friends she spends time with."

"Where does she live?"

"Lexington, Kentucky."

"Does she know you're here, meeting me?"

"She knows I planned to come at some point, but I didn't tell her that I was doing it this weekend. She wasn't very keen on the idea."

"I'm sure she feels guilty. I mean, 52 years she kept this from me, and from you. I understand her reasons, but I still can't help feeling betrayed by her and cheated out of knowing my son."

"She's a good person, Andy. Please don't hold it against her forever."

"I don't know that I could ever forgive her."

"She was worried about hurting you. That's why she didn't think I should come here."

"She has hurt me, more than she'll ever know."

"Maybe she was right. Maybe I shouldn't have come."

"No, I'm glad you did. I'm glad I didn't go to my grave never knowing that you existed."

"There's still time to get to know each other. I mean, if you think you want that."

"Do you want that?"

"Yeah," House said, surprising himself with this realization. "I think I do."


	10. Chapter 10

House and Andy spoke a while longer and agreed that either of them could contact the other if and when they wished. Even though Andy didn't have doubts about being Greg's father, House insisted that he take a sample for a paternity test, telling Andy that, as a scientist and a skeptic, he needed to know for sure and would send Andy proof of the results one way or the other. He'd come prepared with a simple mouth swab test, and Andy obliged. House asked him about the possibility of meeting Colleen at some point, but Andy wasn't willing to commit to telling his daughter about House. It was no doubt an awkward situation for Andy, House reasoned, and maybe he was afraid that a daughter who seemed to idolize him would be disappointed by this revelation. But she'd grown up without a sibling, just like House had, and maybe she'd always dreamed of having one. Ultimately, House knew it wasn't up to him, and he had to let Andy make the decision. He left Andy's place around 4:00, knowing that Wilson was waiting for him and they had a long drive ahead of them. He drove back to the diner to pick up Wilson, emotionally exhausted but relieved that things had gone as well as they had.

He didn't really feel like rehashing everything, but of course Wilson was curious about what had happened, and started in with questions before they'd even reached the highway. He gave Wilson a short recap of how it had gone, and Wilson's reaction was effusive.

"That's fantastic, House! He really didn't give you a hard time or have doubts about what you were saying?"

"No, shockingly. But that's because my Mom wasn't totally honest with me. It wasn't a one-night stand, and he knows they were certainly together long enough to make a baby. He's a smart guy – I could see him doing the math in his head the moment I told him when I was born."

"How did you two get along, generally?"

"We found plenty to talk about, and I think he liked me well enough. Of course, I was on my best behavior. Truth is, he hasn't yet met the House that everyone else knows to be a jerk and an asshole."

"You're not always a jerk and an asshole."

"What a compliment," House said sarcastically.

"Why are you being so negative, House? It sounds like this went way better than you could've expected."

"It did, and I genuinely like the guy, but there's so much he doesn't know about me yet. I didn't say a word about going to prison or to Mayfield, about being addicted to narcotics or marrying a green card wife. In fact, I told him I'd never been married. What's he gonna think when he finds out the truth about me?"

"Well, in practical terms you really never have been married. As for the rest, if you reveal the negative stuff in small doses, along with large doses of the positive stuff, maybe he'll understand. He sounds like an understanding guy, no?"

"Yeah, that's just it. He's a decent, understanding guy, who misses his wife, doesn't get to see his daughter as often as he'd like, and always wanted a son. I just don't think I'm the kind of son he dreamed about."

"Okay, let's just step back a minute here, and try to look at this objectively. Yes, you've had a few problems …"

House rolled his eyes, and said, "That's quite an understatement."

"Alright - lots of problems. But you're also a renowned doctor who saves people no one else can save, and you've made damn good money doing it. You're a published author and a talented musician. And most of the bad stuff that's happened is directly related to a medical condition that wasn't your fault. I mean - the drug use, and Mayfield, and even, to some degree, what happened with Cuddy."

"Somehow I'm not confident he'll see it that way."

"I thought you came here just wanting to get some answers, House. Now it sounds like you really want a relationship with this guy. I'm surprised you care so much about what he thinks of you."

"Are you kidding? Of course it would bother me if he winds up hating me! If I'm gonna know Andy at all, be a part of his life at all, I want it to be completely different than how things were with my dad."

"You really think your dad hated you? I mean, I know you didn't get along, but…"

"Wilson, trust me – he hated me. I think he figured out pretty early on that I wasn't his kid, and he was angry about it and took it out on me." House hesitated for a moment, and then finally admitted, "There's stuff he did that I've never told you about."

"You mean, more than just verbal fighting?"

"Yeah."

"Did he … I mean, did he physically abuse you?"

House didn't answer, and that reaction told Wilson all he needed to know.

"House, my God! Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Isn't it obvious? It isn't something I've ever wanted to dwell on, and there was no point in talking about it."

"Have you ever told anyone about it? Did your Mom know?"

"She knew in general, even though she always worked hard to convince herself otherwise, but she never knew the specifics until I told her when she came for Christmas. I told Nolan a lot, though."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. In fact, I'd prefer that we drop the subject permanently. Please, Wilson."

"Okay. I just can't believe we've known each other all this time, and you never …"

"We've both had our secrets. Why didn't you tell me about Danny for all those years?"

Wilson didn't answer.

"Right," House said. "There are things it's just hard to talk about, no matter how long we've been friends."

Wilson drove on, and it was quiet between them for a long time. House dozed for a while, and eventually Wilson pulled off the highway for a break. He gave House a nudge, and said, "Wake up, big guy. Time to stretch."

House looked around groggily, and asked, "Where are we?"

"Near New Haven. Know anyone at Yale we can crash with?"

"Are you tired of driving? I can take over if you are."

"Nah, it's okay. Take your walk. I'll gas up and get us some snacks, and then you can go back to sleep."

House narrowed his eyes and glared at Wilson. "You're being too nice to me, Wilson. Is this how it's gonna be from now on?"

Wilson smiled and shook his head. "Au contraire. You're still a jerk and an asshole, remember?"

"Damn right," House said. "And don't you ever forget it, pal."


	11. Chapter 11

On Monday morning, after meeting with the members of his team for an initial discussion on a new patient and sending them off on their assignments, House ran the paternity test, and the result was definitive. There was a 99% probability that Andy was his father. He'd promised to give Andy the results, and he would, but first he wanted to tell his mother, and that evening he gave her a call. After perfunctory hellos and how-are-yous, he got right to the point.

"Mom, I wanted to let you know that I went to see Andy last weekend."

"Really?" Blythe said. "I didn't know you were planning to do that so soon. How did it go?"

"Very well."

"Did he know your reason for coming before you got there?"

"No. I told him I was an author writing a book about Vietnam, and wanted to interview him."

"And did you stick with that story after you were there?"

"No, Mom. I couldn't. I'm sorry. I know you thought I shouldn't tell him, but I just had a feeling when I got there that he could handle the truth."

"Oh dear! What was his reaction?"

"I was very surprised by it. He didn't doubt that what I was saying was true, at all. I figured he would, and that I'd have to convince him it was possible, since you said you were only together one night."

"Greg, I'm sorry. It was so hard to admit even that much to you. It did go on longer. I was, well … I was lonely and young and very attracted to him, and John had been away for quite a while."

"It's okay, Mom. You don't need to explain it to me."

"Thank you, honey. I was very upset and ashamed by it at the time, of course. I loved John, but I think I loved Andy a little too. It was all very confusing."

"He said he loved you too, and that you're the one who broke it off."

"Was he angry at me when you told him?"

"More sad than angry, I think. But we got along okay and he agreed to let me run a paternity test, which I've now done. He's definitely my biological father."

"I'm glad you got your answer, Greg."

"I told him I'd let him know the test results. I'll probably call him in a day or two."

"So, you want to stay in touch with him?"

"Well, we agreed that either of us could call the other if we wanted to, so – yeah."

Blythe hesitated for several long moments, and then quietly asked, "How is he, Greg?"

"He's okay. He has arthritis, mostly in his knees, and may need surgery soon. His mind is still sharp, though. He's an interesting guy."

"Does he live alone?"

"Yes. He's still in the house that he and his wife raised their daughter in. She lives about an hour away now with her family. He asked about you."

"What did you tell him?"

"Just that you're well, and where you live. He wanted to know how you were dealing with Dad's death."

"Oh, God - what a sweet man! I was certain he'd hate me and be so angry at me if he ever found out that I kept this from him."

"Well, he was very upset that he was cheated out of knowing me all these years, but I don't think he hates you. I think he understands, and maybe even still has some feelings for you. He's lonely, Mom."

"You didn't give him a way to contact me, did you?"

"No. Do you want me to?"

"I … I don't know. I'll have to think about it."

"He showed me some pictures of his family."

"What did his wife look like?"

"I only saw one photo from when she was young. She was short and slim and had blonde hair. He said her family was also Scottish, like his, and they met through family friends when he was in law school. It was her family that lived near Boston, and that's why they moved there."

"And what about his daughter?"

"She's pretty. She's nine years younger than me, and she's a teacher. One of the reasons he didn't need convincing about being related to me was that her eye color is very similar to mine."

"Will you meet her?"

"I don't know. Andy wasn't sure he was ready to tell her about me."

"He has some grandchildren, too, doesn't he?"

"Yes, two - a boy and a girl, in their early teens. They look more like their father than Colleen. The boy is named after him, and he seems very proud of that. They call him Drew."

"Does he get to see them much?"

"I think so, but he seemed to wish they lived closer, so I'm not sure."

"This is all so … I don't know, so amazing to me."

"What do you mean, Mom?"

"Just the fact that you found him, and met him, and he seems to have accepted this without question."

"Well, he was obviously confident that you weren't seeing anyone else at the same time."

"That doesn't surprise me. There was no question of that. But I thought he'd be so angry about the possibility that he'd reject the idea anyway, and insist that John was your father."

"He's a rational guy, Mom. You were used to living with Dad, who was sometimes irrational and definitely prone to angry responses. Not everyone's like that."

"I know it was bad between the two of you, Greg, but he really wasn't like that with me. I would've left him if he had been."

"But, in hindsight, do you think you would've been happier with Andy?"

"I guess I'll never know. What's done is done, and there's no going back."

"No, you're right. There's no going back. But he and I are gonna try to go forward, if we can, and maybe that's possible for the two of you as well."

"You don't mean as a couple, do you?"

"No. But maybe you could get some closure with him just by telling him you're sorry. I think it might help him just to hear you say that."

"I'll think about it, honey. Let me know how things go when you speak with him again."

"I will, Mom. Take it easy. I'll talk to you again soon."

"Okay. Bye, Greg."


	12. Chapter 12

House waited until the end of that week before calling Andy, trying to decide what to say. He wanted to give him the results of the test, of course, but beyond that, he wasn't sure how to proceed. He knew that he probably wouldn't get the chance to see Andy again soon, and phone conversations would be their only way of communicating, since Andy was one of those older people who'd never had a computer at home or gotten into e-mailing. He was certainly bright enough to figure all of that out, if he'd been interested, but when House had been with him Andy mentioned that he preferred the old-fashioned ways of doing things, like reading the daily paper, held in his hands, and hearing someone's voice on the phone. House wanted to find a way to slowly let Andy know about some of the realities of his life, without scaring him off, naturally. Finally he picked up the phone one evening and took the plunge.

It rang numerous times and then went to voicemail. House's immediate thought was that Andy probably couldn't get to the phone in time, having been in the same situation himself more times than he cared to recall. He left a message, and heard back from Andy about fifteen minutes later, the name and number showing up on House's caller ID.

"Hi Andy," House said as he answered the phone. "Thanks for getting back to me so quickly."

"You must have one of those things that tells you who's calling, huh?" Andy said. "Colleen does the same thing when I call her."

"Yes, it comes in handy. Makes it easy to avoid people I'd rather not talk to."

"I guess so. Me, I like the surprise of answering the phone and not knowing who's there. Different generations, I suppose."

"I'm calling because I wanted to let you know that I've now performed the paternity test."

"And?"

"And you're my father. There's no question."

"I didn't doubt it, but it's good to get the confirmation."

"I can send you the written proof, if you want."

"That's not necessary. I wouldn't understand the medical jargon anyway. Thanks for offering, though."

"How are you feeling, Andy?"

"I'm okay. It's been cold and damp the last few days, though, and that kind of weather always makes my knees more painful."

"I was thinking about that," House said. "If you're okay with it, I'd like to take a look at whatever recent tests you've had. You know, just for a second opinion. What's your doctor's name?" House already knew who this doctor was, of course, from his research before meeting Andy, but he didn't want Andy knowing that.

"Oh, you don't have to do that. You're probably busy with your own work."

"It's no bother, really. I'm sure you have a good doctor, but we have some specialists at the hospital where I work who are top-notch in joint replacement, and I could confer with them on your case."

"Okay, thanks. His name is Stuart Kaplan. He's right here in Newton. Do you need the number? It's upstairs in my wallet."

"No, don't bother. I can find him. If you would just tell him to expect a call from me, he'll then be able to send me whatever I need."

"Sure, I'll talk to him. You know, I see other patients in the waiting room in his office, coming in for appointments after knee replacements, and it seems like such a hard thing to recover from. That's why I keep resisting. I feel like I'm too old to put myself through all that."

"Well, it can be a tough rehab, but in the long run, you'll probably be very satisfied if you decide to go ahead with it. If I had the chance to get rid of my pain with a joint replacement, I'd do it in a minute."

"Does your leg cause you a lot of pain, Greg?"

"Yeah, unfortunately. There was nerve damage as well as muscle loss, and there's no surgery that would help."

"What do you do for it?"

Here goes, House thought. The first hard reality he wanted Andy to know.

"I've tried lots of things. Massage and heat help a little, but I do also need prescription painkillers. I'm currently on Vicodin."

"That's a narcotic, isn't it? My doctor considered putting me on it, but so far I've been managing with Aleve and periodic cortisone shots."

"Yes, it's a narcotic – not one of the strongest, but still quite effective."

"Have you been on it a long time?"

"On and off for many years, yes. I had some bad side effects at one point a few years ago, and had to go off it for awhile."

"What kind of side effects?"

"Well, my body was building up a tolerance to the medication, and it wasn't helping the way it used to, so the dosage needed to be increased. It got to the point where I was taking too much, and it caused hallucinations, among other things. I needed to spend some time in a rehab facility to deal with it." House deliberately hadn't called Mayfield a psychiatric hospital, as that revelation seemed a bit too much for this first conversation.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Andy said. "How can you still be taking it now, if you had those kinds of problems with it?"

"My dose is strictly regulated now, and I'm very careful about not exceeding it."

"And what if it stops helping at that dose again?"

"Then I'll have to try something else. Pain management is a complicated thing, Andy, and it has to be tailored to each individual patient and adjusted over time. I'll look forward to speaking with Dr. Kaplan about your situation."

"I've never had a doctor in the family before. Guess it has its perks."

"Well, I'm happy to do it."

"Thanks."

"I also wanted to tell you that I spoke to my mother, to tell her that we met and give her the test results. She's been very worried about what your reaction would be, so she was relieved to know that our meeting went well. She also wants you to know that she's grateful for that, for how understanding you've been."

"What choice did I have? It's a reality. Accepting it as the truth doesn't mean I forgive her."

"I know that, and so does she. But not everyone would've accepted it. You had every right to throw me out of your house and refuse to accept it."

"Once I was convinced, and it didn't take long, I could never have done that. You're my son, Greg. And even though your mother and I were young and careless, we're both responsible, and there's no getting around that fact."

"As I said, she's very relieved and grateful that you feel that way."

"That's good to know. Tell her I appreciate her concern."

"Would you like to tell her yourself? I mean, if she's agreeable to it, would you like to hear from her directly?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if you decide you're open to it, let me know."

"Let me think about it, Greg."

"Okay."

"I should be going. It's getting late. Goodnight, Greg. It was good to hear from you, and I hope we talk again soon."

"Sure. Feel free to call me whenever you want. Bye for now."


	13. Chapter 13

House was surprised to hear from Andy just a few days later. Wilson had come by for dinner that evening and to watch a hockey game, so was there to overhear the conversation, but House didn't want to let the call go to voicemail, since he hadn't expected to hear from Andy this soon and wondered if there might be some immediate medical crisis Andy was concerned about.

"Andy," House said as he answered the phone. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, fine. You said I could call whenever I wanted, right? Is this a bad time for you?"

"No, it's alright. I just wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon."

"Well, I spoke to Dr. Kaplan, and he says that it's fine for you to contact him."

"Good, I'll do that."

"You're a sly one, aren't you, Greg?"

"What do you mean?"

"As soon as I mentioned your name, Dr. Kaplan told me that you're quite famous in the medical community, that you have a reputation as a genius at diagnosing rare conditions which often stump other doctors. Why didn't you tell me how well-known you are?"

"I didn't think it was that important."

"Not that important? It's amazing! You should be very proud of it."

"I guess I'm just not that comfortable with tooting my own horn." At that comment Wilson looked at House and raised his eyebrows in disbelief. House scowled at Wilson and turned his back so he didn't have to watch Wilson's reactions to everything he was telling Andy.

"He also said that you've treated many famous people, including politicians, star athletes, and CEOs of major corporations, and that people come to Princeton from all over specifically because you're there."

"Yes, I've had some well-known patients, but not that many."

"You're too modest."

"I don't know what to say, Andy. I suppose I didn't want you thinking I expected you'd be happy we're related just because of my occupation or accomplishments."

"I guess I can understand that, but I still would've liked to know sooner. I wonder where that aptitude for science came from. I was never very good at it. Was your mother?"

"Not really. She's more of a word person than a numbers person, though she always handled the banking and family finances."

"Where did you go to school? I never even thought to ask when you were here."

"Michigan and Johns Hopkins," House stated simply, not wanting to go into detail about his convoluted route to a medical degree after getting kicked out twice and switching around from school to school.

"That's impressive."

"Well, so is Duke Law School."

"Dr. Kaplan asked how I knew you."

"What did you tell him?"

"Just that we had a mutual friend. I still don't know what to tell people."

"That's totally up to you, Andy. It doesn't matter to me if no one else ever knows that we're related."

"Even Colleen? I've been thinking more the last few days about telling her."

"Well, it would be fine with me either way. Don't feel pressured to do anything you're not comfortable doing."

"I'm just not sure how to approach the subject with her. But I know that if I discovered I had a half-sister, at your age or at any age, for that matter, I'd want to meet her. I don't want to deny you that, Greg."

"I'd love to meet her, of course. But it's up to you."

"Thanks."

"Andy, can we talk more later? A friend of mine is about to drop by."

"Sure. I'll let you go."

"I'll talk to you again after I've spoken to Dr. Kaplan."

"Okay. Goodnight, Greg."

"'Night."

House flipped his phone closed and turned around to look at Wilson, who was smirking.

"That was fascinating …," Wilson began.

"Don't say it, Wilson."

"Since when are you not comfortable tooting your own horn?"

"Look, what was I supposed to say? He doesn't need to know about my arrogance or huge ego."

"It looks like your cunning plan worked, House."

"What cunning plan?"

"You knew this would happen. You specifically asked him to mention you to his doctor so someone else could tell him how brilliant and famous you are. You couldn't care less about the state of his knees."

"That's not true. Well, not completely. I did figure that Kaplan would probably tell him about me, and what's the harm in that? I'd rather have him think I'm modest than an unabashed blowhard. But I'd also honestly like to help him, if I can."

"What can you do? It's not a diagnostic puzzle. The guy's knees are wearing out, and there are perfectly fine orthopedic surgeons in his area if that's what he needs."

"I have compassion for him, Wilson. Is that so hard to believe? I know what he's going through."

"Well, that's true. It's just never led you to have compassion for anyone else."

"Is that what you really think? I have plenty of compassion. I just don't usually display it. And it was also a way to tell him about me a little."

"What do you mean?"

"Bringing up his arthritis gave me an opening to tell him about some of my own problems."

"How much did you tell him?"

"I told him I'm on narcotics, and I told him about Mayfield. Well, I didn't mention it by name, but he knows I needed help and went away for a while."

"Wow, when did you tell him that?"

"A few days ago, the last time we spoke."

"And he took it well?"

"Yeah. Don't you get it, Wilson? I want things to be different with Andy, so I'm trying to be different. Maybe if I'd grown up with him instead of that pathetic excuse for a father I got stuck with, I really would've been different."

Wilson didn't know how to respond to that. House still hadn't revealed any details of John's abuse, and Wilson knew he couldn't press him on it.

"Well, we'll never know, I guess," Wilson finally said.

"You think it's too late for me to change, don't you? Too late to turn into a decent person who can be a caring son to an elderly father."

"No, I wouldn't put it past you. Stranger things have happened, House."

"Now that's a rousing vote of confidence!"

"That's what I'm here for," Wilson deadpanned. "Pass the pretzels, please."


	14. Chapter 14

A few days later House spoke to Stuart Kaplan, who'd sent him copies of recent MRI results on Andy. Kaplan seemed quite excited to confer with House on this case, since he'd obviously heard of him, but had never spoken to him. Normally, this kind of fawning fellow doctor annoyed House to no end, but he tried to be as pleasant as possible, knowing that Kaplan would probably report back to Andy on how the conversation had gone. The MRI showed extensive cartilage loss in Andy's left knee; the right was in much better shape, though showing early signs of the same kind of damage. Kaplan said he'd given Andy multiple cortisone injections on the left side over the past couple of years, and they'd provided only temporary relief. He'd suggested that Andy use a cane, but Andy had rejected that, saying he could manage without one. The fact that he lived in a two-story home was problematic as well, but Kaplan said Andy had rejected the idea of moving and was limiting his stair use as much as possible. House showed the test results to Simpson, PPTH's longtime orthopedic specialist, who said that his recommendation to the patient would be a total replacement of the left knee.

"It's pretty much bone on bone at this point," Simpson said, looking at the scan. "Other therapies aren't gonna do much for this guy. How old did you say he is?"

"Seventy-six," House said. "He's resisting the surgery."

"That's typical. A lot of people that age figure they'll just get by with what they have. They don't wanna deal with a long rehab. He's probably not very active anyway."

"But it's gotta be painful."

"Sure. There's no way it couldn't be."

"So shouldn't he be encouraged to do it, for that reason alone?"

"Encouraged, yes. But obviously if his mind's made up, that's that. Why are you in on this case, House? It's a little mundane for you, isn't it?"

"It's just a favor – he's an old family friend."

"Well, that's my advice."

"If he does decide to do it, is Kaplan good or should he find someone better?"

"Kaplan's actually very good, from what I hear."

"Thanks."

House wasn't sure how to approach Andy on this subject. He understood the resistance, and he also understood the refusal to use a cane or to move out of that house. It had obviously been his home for a long time, and every nook and cranny was no doubt filled with memories of Ellie and of raising Colleen there. What friends he still had were probably local, and the thought of packing up decades' worth of possessions was likely daunting to a man that age. He called Andy that evening, hoping to be persuasive yet still respectful.

"Hello," Andy said.

"Hi Andy. It's Greg."

"Good to hear from you."

"How are you doing?"

"Alright."

"I wanted to let you know that I spoke to Dr. Kaplan, and reviewed your test results with an orthopedist here."

"I figured that's why you were calling."

"We both agree with what Dr. Kaplan has told you. There isn't much cartilage left in your knee, and I think a replacement is your best option. The right side isn't nearly as bad, and you might not need surgery on that for quite a while, if ever."

"I thought you'd say that, but I was hoping maybe there was something else to try, something Dr. Kaplan hadn't thought of."

"Unfortunately, there isn't. He's a good doctor, Andy. I checked him out."

"I still don't know what to do. I think I can manage the way it is. I'm fine, really." House couldn't resist a small chuckle at that phrase. "What are you laughing about, Greg?"

"I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Do you have any idea how many times I've told people 'I'm fine' when I'm actually anything but? I think you and I are alike that way. You don't want anyone knowing how bad it really is, do you? You don't want to be a burden to anyone and you don't want to be seen as weak or disabled. I get it, completely."

"You're a pretty perceptive guy, aren't you?"

"Well, that's kind of what I'm known for, yes."

"I know I should probably do it, but the recovery just seems so hard."

"Think of it this way – you're otherwise quite healthy for your age. Your heart's in good shape, you're not a smoker, and you could reasonably expect to live another fifteen or twenty years. Do you want to be in pain all those years, or go through about six months of post-op rehab and then enjoy a pain-free joint the rest of your life?"

"When you put it that way, it does sound logical."

"That's also what I'm known for."

"I'll seriously think about it."

"Okay. In the meantime, I also agree with Dr. Kaplan that a cane would help. Trust me on this - taking even a little weight off that leg can make a big difference."

"I'll think about that, too."

"You get used to it."

"Used to what?"

"To having people look at you. I hated it at first, but I had no choice. I went from a wheelchair to a walker to crutches and then finally to a cane. I always hated looking different, but I couldn't walk without some kind of help, and at some point I just accepted it and moved on."

"How long did all of that take in your case, Greg?"

"Nearly a year."

"Six months doesn't seem so bad in comparison."

"Well, it won't be easy. I don't want to sugarcoat it in any way. If you decide to do it, you should be realistic about what's involved. But, even considering that, I still think it would be worth it."

"Thanks for being so honest with me about all this. It helps to have another opinion, and I know you're speaking from personal experience as well as medical knowledge."

"If you did it, would you have a place to stay after the hospital rehab? You really couldn't be alone in your house right away."

"When the doctor first mentioned the possibility of surgery, Colleen offered to have me move in with her for a while. She has a guest bedroom on the first floor of her home with a full bathroom right down the hallway."

"That would be perfect. What's her opinion about going ahead with it?"

"She's been encouraging me to do it for over a year now."

"Smart girl. But she didn't convince you, did she?"

"No. I can be pretty stubborn, if you haven't figured that out already."

"Yet another indication that there's no doubt we're related."

"I'll talk all of this over some more with both Colleen and Dr. Kaplan, and let you know what I decide. Thanks, Greg."

"No problem. Talk to you again soon, Andy."


	15. Chapter 15

House didn't hear from Andy again that week, and was starting to wonder what was going on with him. He'd spoken to his mother in the meantime, bringing her up to date on his conversations with Andy, and she'd finally told him that, if Andy was agreeable to it, she'd like to give him a call and see for herself how he was doing. House didn't know how Andy would react to that, since he had other things on his mind right now. He'd have to pick the right time to mention it. He also didn't want to be the one to call next, because he didn't want Andy to feel pressured about anything they'd been discussing. In mid-March, over a week since their last phone call, House heard from him.

"Hi, Andy," House said. "How are you doing?"

"Hi, Greg. I'm okay. Sorry it took me a while to call back. It's actually been a very eventful week, and I didn't want to call until I'd made some decisions."

"So, I take it that means you've now made a decision?"

"Two big ones, yes. I'm going ahead with the surgery, and Dr. Kaplan was able to schedule it for April 17th. That was the earliest he could do it, and I figured it would be better to wait until spring anyway – with no chance of ice, snow or cold weather to deal with during the recovery period."

"Good thinking. I'm glad you're doing it, and I think you'll be very satisfied with the result in the long run."

"I know it'll be hard, but it's a relief to have finally made up my mind, and now I'm actually looking forward to getting rid of this damn old knee once and for all."

"What was the other big decision?"

"Well, when I was discussing all of this with Colleen, she was of course curious about the reason for my change of heart. At first I wasn't even planning to mention you, but she can see right through me sometimes, and she knew I was holding something back from her. So, I told her about you."

"How much did you tell her?"

"Everything. She knows you're my son."

House wasn't expecting this piece of news, and was stunned into silence for a few moments.

"What was her reaction?" House finally asked.

"At first she was shocked, of course, and a bit incredulous. After I gave her the details, though, and told her that you'd done the paternity test, she didn't doubt that it was true, and then she started asking questions about you, wanting to know all sorts of things, some of which you and I haven't even had the chance to discuss yet."

"Like what?"

"Oh, everything. What you looked like as a kid, where you lived, what you're interested in and whether you have a family. I told her I haven't seen any photos of you as a child, and didn't know very much about where you grew up. I did tell her that you're a well-known doctor, so she said she'd go online and try to find a current picture of you. She really wants to meet you, Greg."

"I'd like that too. Maybe after your surgery and initial rehab, when you're staying with her, I could drive up to Providence and meet her whole family."

"That would be wonderful, but I think she'll want to speak with you before then. She won't want to wait that long for your first conversation."

"That's fine. Feel free to give her my number, and she can call me whenever she wants."

"Great."

Andy sounded upbeat and pleased about his decisions, so House figured it couldn't hurt to mention Blythe's request.

"I wanted to let you know, Andy, that my mom says she'd like to contact you, but only if that's okay with you, of course."

"I don't know."

"No pressure – just think about it, okay?"

"I wouldn't know what to say to her. I'm afraid I'd get angry and say things I'll regret."

"I don't think she'd be surprised by that, or by anything you'd say to her. She just wants a chance to apologize, more than anything."

"I'll think about it."

"You've had a lot of changes lately, huh? You've made some huge decisions, and I know that's not an easy thing to do. I'll tell her you're not ready to talk to her. I'm sure she'll understand."

"That doesn't mean I won't ever be. I just can't do this right now."

"It's fine, really. Don't worry about it. How are things otherwise?"

"Okay. Dr. Kaplan gave me a cane to use, and you were right – it does help. I don't use it all the time around the house, but when I go out and have to walk a distance, it's good to have it."

"I do the same thing sometimes – hang it up in a doorway when I get home and just use pieces of furniture to lean on if I need to."

"He said I should use it in my right hand, on the opposite side of the affected leg. But I noticed when you were here that you don't do that, do you? Don't you use it in your right hand instead of your left?"

"Yeah, but don't go by me. It's a bad habit I got into and I've never been able to break it. See, when I was in rehab, I was on crutches a long time and got really sick of them. I pushed the transition to a cane sooner than I probably should have, and when I started using it I really did still need support on both sides. I tried it in my left hand but it felt awkward and I was unsteady. With the cane in my dominant right hand, and directly next to my bad leg, I did much better. It's stayed there ever since, but it's really not ideal. It can screw up your back and hip eventually, so listen to Dr. Kaplan and use it the way he says to."

"So even smart doctors don't always follow medical advice, huh?"

"Well, doctors are notoriously bad patients, and I'm no exception."

"I'm trying to be a better patient now than I've sometimes been in the past."

"Just remember that there's certainly nothing wrong with questioning things. It's your body and only you can make decisions about it. You have the right to ask about every detail, even if your doctors or nurses sometimes seem impatient. Would you want me there for the surgery, Andy? Because I was thinking – I could come up then as well as when you're at Colleen's."

"Oh, that's not necessary, Greg. You're a busy man, and I'll have other people here for that."

"Okay, but let me know if you change your mind, because I could do it if you want me to."

"Thanks for offering. That means a lot to me."

"And if you have any questions in the lead-up to it about what to expect from the whole process, don't hesitate to ask."

"I'm sure I will have questions, so thanks for that too."

"Talk to you soon, Andy."

"Goodnight, Greg."


	16. Chapter 16

The following evening, House was relaxing at home when his cell phone rang. He glanced at an unfamiliar number showing up on the screen, with a 401 area code, and immediately figured it must be Colleen. He took a deep breath and then answered the call, simply saying hello without revealing that he knew who it was.

"Hi, Greg. This is Colleen Binetti."

"Colleen, yes. It's good to hear from you."

"Wow, this is … this is pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not sure how to begin, what to say."

"Neither do I."

"I went online and saw your photo."

"I probably look way too old to be your brother, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that. I'm starting to notice a few wrinkles on my own face lately."

"Andy showed me some pictures of you when I was at his place. I think you're still quite youthful looking."

"Well, I stay pretty active. The kids have kept me young, I think."

"I also saw one from when you were a child. You were adorable."

"I can't believe Dad still keeps that one out on the bookcase. It's ancient!"

"He obviously likes remembering those days."

"Yeah. He's a nostalgic guy."

"Was he a good father to you, Colleen?"

"That seems like a strange question. Did you think that he wasn't for some reason?"

"No, not at all. I guess I just want confirmation of what I've already figured out about him."

"He was a wonderful father. Still is. He was patient and kind and funny, and always very generous with his time and affection. Both of my parents were."

"You're a lucky girl, then."

"I want you to know that I'm grateful your mother was finally honest with you, Greg, because Dad deserves to know you. He's excited about all of this, I can tell, and I'm just hoping you don't disappoint him. I mean, if you only wanted answers to your own questions and don't really intend to have a long-term relationship with him, well, I could understand that, but I think it would devastate him. Now that he knows he has a son, he wants to get to know you better."

"I have no intention of walking away. I don't know that I'll have time to visit very often, but I certainly want to stay in touch and get to know him better too."

"Good. That's a load off my mind. He's also appreciative of all the medical advice you've been giving him. I don't think he ever would've decided to go ahead with this surgery if you hadn't come along, and I hate to watch him suffer. He's been in bad pain with this for a long time."

"I was glad to be able to help."

"I've been reading about you, Greg. It's quite incredible, what you do."

"In a way, I can't help doing it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm constantly analyzing people, my patients and everyone else for that matter, trying to figure out who they really are and what they're hiding. Diagnosing unusual diseases is like solving a puzzle for me, and I love puzzles. Always have. I'm kind of obsessed with them, actually."

"Well, I'm sure the people whose lives you save are very grateful for your obsession."

"That's if I haven't totally alienated them by the time they're cured. I'm not known for my bedside manner. What about you, Colleen? Andy said you're a teacher. What do you teach?"

"Seventh grade social studies."

"Do you enjoy it?"

"Yes, very much. Of course, it can be tough to keep adolescents interested sometimes, but most of them are good kids and I try to do out-of-the-box things to keep them engaged."

"Do your own children attend the school where you teach?"

"It's the local public middle school closest to our house, so yes. I mean, Drew started high school last fall, so he's moved on, but Carly's in seventh now, so she's there."

"Is she in your class?"

"No. I made sure they assigned her to someone else for that subject."

"Why?"

"I just thought it would be awkward for her and the other students."

"Not into the whole 'mom's the best teacher there is' home-schooling philosophy?"

"Don't get me started on home schooling. Oh, there's no doubt it works fine for some people, but Nick and I have never believed in sheltering our kids from the world. They're gonna have to grow up and live in it someday, and deal with all kinds of people with all kinds of beliefs and opinions."

"I couldn't agree more."

"You weren't home-schooled, were you?"

"No. Back then no one would've even considered it, especially my mom. I was fairly precocious, and even though she's bright I don't think she would've felt qualified to teach me. I went to more schools than I can remember, actually."

"Why?"

"We moved a lot, following my dad all over the world. He was a pilot in the Marines for his entire career."

"What are some of the places you lived?"

"Oh, God, all over. I was born in North Carolina, and we were there for a few years, but we spent time in Washington State, Virginia, Ohio, Kentucky, Florida, California and Arizona. We were also overseas for quite a while, mostly in Egypt and Japan."

"That couldn't be more different from my childhood. We were in Newton the whole time, and I was in the same school system from kindergarten on. It must've been exciting to get to see so many places as a kid."

"I liked experiencing different cultures, and I picked up several foreign languages at a young age, but moving so often had its disadvantages too. I never really made any lasting friends, and spent a lot of time alone."

"Dad mentioned that you didn't get along too well with your father."

"No, not really."

"That's too bad."

House didn't feel like talking about this, and was quiet for several moments, not knowing what to say next.

"Greg, are you still there?"

"Yes, sorry. I was just daydreaming. I do that, sometimes."

"Dad said you'd like to visit when he's staying with me."

"Yes, if you think that's okay."

"Sure, we'll all look forward to it. I'd say that you could stay here, but with Dad in the guest bedroom, we won't really have room, unless the kids can double up."

"Oh, it's not that long a drive. I won't have to stay over."

"Well, we'd like you to stay for more than just a short visit, if you could."

"We'll see. I could get a hotel room for a night, I suppose."

"There's a lot for us to get through before then, and I'm sure we'll talk again. I don't want to keep you any longer, but it was good to talk to you, Greg."

"Same here. Take care, Colleen, and let me know if you have any questions about what Andy will need after the surgery."

"Thanks. Bye for now."

"Bye."

House hung up, leaning back into the couch and pondering the conversation. Colleen was obviously completely devoted to her father, and he didn't have to wonder why. He couldn't help envisioning how his life might've been different if he'd grown up with Andy instead of John. It gnawed at him, as did the fact that these people could easily change their now-rosy opinion of him when the truth came out, as he knew it eventually must. Just how do you tell a newly-found father and sister that you recently spent nearly a year in jail? How do you tell them that you did something so violent and crazy, and then fled the country for three months before turning yourself in? How do you tell them that you married a woman solely as revenge against a girlfriend that dumped you? He'd long ago admitted to himself that the "green card in exchange for services" part of it was just a rationalization. He'd really been hoping that Cuddy would step in at the last minute to stop the bogus wedding, deciding that she'd made a huge mistake in breaking up with him and declaring her undying love. Then of course there was the idiocy of taking untested experimental drugs in a desperate attempt to grow muscle in his leg, and the subsequent reckless self-surgery. He shook his head and pushed himself up from the couch. He wanted to get to know Andy and Colleen, to have them be part of his life from now on, but he couldn't help feeling that they'd reject him sooner or later. They were just too decent and normal to accept everything he'd done, weren't they?


	17. Chapter 17

In the following weeks House spoke to both Andy and Colleen several times, answering their numerous questions about the surgery and aftercare and getting more comfortable with them. He hadn't revealed much more about himself, however, and as Andy's surgery approached he started worrying about his trip to Providence, feeling that it would be harder to equivocate in a face-to-face meeting than it had been in short phone conversations. Wilson picked up on his mood and asked about it over lunch the day before Andy's operation.

"So, tomorrow's the big day, huh?"

"Yeah."

"How's Andy feeling about it?"

"He seems pretty psyched, actually. Anxious to get it over with and start recuperating."

"And what about you? When are you planning to visit?"

"Well, he'll be in the hospital for a couple days, and then spend about a week in a separate rehab facility. He should be ready to go to Colleen's in ten days or so, barring complications. They'll have to see how it goes. Sometimes it takes longer for people his age, especially since his other knee isn't completely sound."

"And then when would you go up there?"

"I wanna give them some time. Kaplan gave her the name of someone in Providence who'll be doing in-home therapy for the first few weeks, and I should let them get used to the routine before showing up. Maybe by the second week of May."

"Sounds like you're delaying this longer than you need to."

"Does it? I guess maybe I am."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Not really. From everything you've told me you're getting along fine with both of them. I'm sure Andy would like to see you as soon as possible, and Colleen is probably eager to finally meet you."

"They still have no idea who I really am."

"What the hell does that mean, House? You are who they think you are."

"They think I'm a brilliant, famous, **caring** doctor."

"Well, two out of three ain't bad."

"Ha-ha."

"You don't have to tell them your whole life story the day you show up. They've already gotten to know you a little. They know you've had some problems, and they haven't run for the hills yet."

"They know about my medical problems. That's a lot easier to understand than the rest of it, and I don't wanna keep lying to them."

"Wow. You've never had that compulsion to tell the truth before. Having this new family may actually be giving you a conscience."

"I guess I could just answer whatever questions they have as they bring them up."

"Right. You don't have to volunteer information."

"Colleen's been reading about me online, though."

"So? There's nothing there about serving time in jail."

"But there's a huge gap when nothing was posted about me, and that's bound to look suspicious."

"Other people don't necessarily notice every detail and read something sinister into it, House. That's how your mind works, but Colleen probably wants to think the best of you. It most likely won't even occur to her to question a time gap."

"Well, I'll call her tomorrow and see how the procedure went. Maybe after a few days we can figure out when it would be best for me to visit."

"What about your mom? Any news on whether she'll be going up there too?"

"Going up there? Andy still hasn't even agreed to speak to her."

"I didn't realize. I know you said he was considering it, but I thought by now he would've gotten over his reluctance."

"Really? Would you get over it that quickly, Wilson? The man was dumped by a woman he loved and then never told he had a son for 52 years!"

"Is she upset that he's resisting?"

"She hasn't told me how she feels about it, but I think she's more disappointed than upset. She knows she has no right to be upset."

"She was in a terrible situation, House. Knowing how John would've reacted, telling him probably would've ended her marriage."

"Yeah, well - she and I both would've been better off if she had divorced him and married Andy."

"Maybe. You'll never know for sure, so it's pointless to hypothesize about it."

"I can't help it. Every time I talk to Colleen I feel jealous, Wilson. She's crazy about him, and he was a great father."

"Sure, but did you ever consider that could be because he was totally ready to be a father by the time she was born? He'd done his time in the military, had finished law school and was happily married. None of that was the case when you were born. He was young and hadn't even decided what he wanted to do with his life."

"So you think he would've resented me for ruining his life if he'd known about me from the start?"

"Who knows? It's entirely possible. Good people can become great parents or not-so-great parents, and timing has an awful lot to do with it."

"I guess."

"It's pointless to dwell on what could've been. All you can do now is go forward. Just go up there and see how it goes."

"They want me to stay for more than just a short visit."

"Did you agree to that?"

"I told her I'd get a hotel room for at least one night."

"Good. Since you want to do this by yourself, at least you won't be driving for nine hours in one day. That round-trip is a killer."

"Well, Providence isn't as far as Newton, at least."

"It's still a trek. Remember to stop and take breaks when you go, House."

"Yes, mother," House said sarcastically. "Will you ever stop treating me like a child, Wilson?"

"Maybe when you stop acting like one, doing impulsive and foolish things. I can picture you getting on the road, mulling this stuff over in your head for the whole drive and forgetting to stop, and then showing up with your leg completely cramped up and barely able to walk. That's not the first thing you want Colleen to see, is it?"

"No, I suppose you have a point."

"Just lookin' out for you, bud."

"Guess you'll never stop doing that, huh?"

"Not a chance. You have a problem with it?"

"Nah. Without you along on that first trip, I doubt I would've even made it to his front door. Thanks, Wilson."

"De nada."


	18. Chapter 18

House spoke to Colleen in the late afternoon on April 17th, and she told him that the surgery had gone well and Andy was out of recovery and back in his hospital room. He also spoke directly to Andy and to Kaplan the next day, and everything was progressing as expected, with no major complications slowing his recovery. Andy left the hospital for rehab on the 19th, and Colleen kept House informed about his progress as the days passed. He was doing well enough to leave rehab as scheduled on the 27th, and was comfortably ensconced in Colleen's home by that afternoon. Since things seemed to be right on track, Colleen didn't see any reason for House to delay his visit, and she asked if he'd be free to come the first weekend in May. He agreed to drive up on Saturday morning and stay at least until Sunday.

The spring day was warm and sunny, and the drive north went smoothly. Heeding Wilson's advice, House did stop every hour or so for a short walk, and it helped, as he arrived in Providence in the early afternoon feeling no worse than usual. He found the address and parked across the street from Colleen's home, a pale yellow colonial with a wide driveway and two-car garage. There was a basketball hoop on one side of the driveway and a boy's bicycle lying on the lawn. He got out of his car and approached the home, feeling somewhat nervous but also filled with curious anticipation. He rang the bell and Colleen opened it almost immediately, giving him the first face-to-face look at his younger sister. She was dressed in jeans and a v-necked black shirt. Her dark blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her bright blue eyes immediately locked on his.

"Greg," she said, grinning and revealing deep dimples in both cheeks. "It's so good to finally meet you."

"Hi, Colleen," he said, awkwardly standing there and not sure what to do next.

"Well, come on in," she said.

He walked in and extended his right hand to her, but instead of shaking it she enveloped him in a hug.

"We're family," she said, holding on to him for a few moments. "I want to do more than shake your hand. Hope that's okay with you."

"Sure," he said, finally feeling her release him.

"Come say hi to Dad."

He followed her into a large living room and saw Andy sitting in a straight-backed chair, wearing sweat pants, sneakers and a tee shirt. A walker and a pair of forearm crutches were both within his reach, and his left leg was slightly bent, with his foot resting on a low ottoman. House walked over to him and touched his shoulder.

"Hi, Andy. It's great to see you again. How are you doing?"

"Pretty well, for an old guy with a brand new knee."

"Dr. Kaplan says you did well in rehab. How's it feeling?"

"Still sore, of course, but a little better each day. They had me up on a walker the day after surgery."

"The sooner the better. You don't wanna let scar tissue form. Do they still have you on Percocet for pain?"

"Yeah, but I'm pretty much down to one dose in the morning and one at night now. I'm finished with the antibiotics."

"What about the Coumadin?"

"He says I'll only need to stay on it for another two weeks."

"Good. I wanna take a look at your incision later, though Kaplan told me there was no sign of infection."

"Sure, whenever."

"Enough medical talk for now," Colleen said. "Just sit down and relax, Greg. Are you hungry? Did you have lunch on the road, or would you like something? I could make you a sandwich."

"I'm okay for now. I had some fruit and other snacks in the car. Thanks, though."

"What about a drink, then?"

"Okay – just water would be fine."

Colleen went into the kitchen for a moment and House sat on the couch next to Andy's chair.

"How was your trip, Greg?"

"Fine. It was a nice day for a drive."

"Yeah, it's beautiful right now, with all the trees in bloom."

"Have you gotten outside much yet?"

"There's a deck out back, but I haven't ventured much further than that."

"How's the PT going? Are you happy with the therapist?"

"Yes, he seems to really know his stuff. He comes three times a week, and he also gives me exercises to do on my own. Colleen and Drew have been helping me with them."

"How does the right knee feel?"

"It's okay. Maybe a little more sore than usual, but that's to be expected, I guess. As I get to the point where I can bear more weight on the left side, though, I think it'll feel better. I've been relying on my right leg to do more than its fair share for a long time, and now that the left will be better it'll finally get a break."

"Yeah, the good leg takes a beating. Sometimes my left leg protests, just from overuse to compensate for the bad side."

Colleen came back with drinks for both Greg and Andy, and sat on the couch next to Greg.

"Thanks," Greg said.

She stared at him and smiled warmly again. "Dad said we had the same eyes, but until you see them in person … it's really uncanny, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said, looking at her intently and again being struck by the similarity in color. "My mom's are brown, and she sometimes used to call me her 'blue-eyed boy'. When I got older it was one of the first things that made me wonder if I really had my dad's genes. His were sort of a hazel color."

"Did you remember to bring pictures, Greg?" Colleen asked.

"How could I forget?" he teased. "You mentioned it several times."

"Sorry - I have a habit of repeating myself when I get excited about something. I've just been curious about what you looked like as a kid."

Greg reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet, and pulled out two old photos which he handed to her. In the first one he was about two, with curly blond hair and those mesmerizing eyes dominating his small face.

"This was taken on the base when we were still in North Carolina," he said. Colleen passed the photo to Andy and looked at the second one, in which an older Greg with slightly darker hair was sitting on a bike.

"I was seven in this one, and had already moved about three times, I think."

"This one reminds me of childhood photos of Dad," Colleen said. "Look, Dad – doesn't it?"

Andy looked at the second photo and seemed stunned by the resemblance for a moment. "Wow," he finally said. "It definitely does. Honey, you have some of them here, don't you? Maybe Greg would like to see them."

"Yeah. They're in a box up in my closet," Colleen said. "I'll dig them out later."

Colleen handed the photos back to House, and he said, "No, you can keep them, if you want."

"Thanks. I'd like that."

"Speaking of kids, where's the rest of your family, Colleen?" House asked.

"Nick took Drew to his soccer game, and dropped Carly off at a friend's house. They'll all be back later this afternoon, and you'll meet them then. Gives us a chance to visit alone first."

House was suddenly grateful for that. Meeting them all at once might've been overwhelming.

"So, how have you been, Greg?" Colleen asked. "I feel like we've been pestering you with medical questions for weeks and not asking much about how things are going in your life. Saved anyone famous lately?"

"Well, even if I had, I can't really talk about it. You know - patient confidentiality. But, actually, we've had more down-on-their-luck patients recently. There was a teenaged runaway a short time ago."

"That must be upsetting, to see a kid in a situation like that. Things must be pretty bad at home for a child to run away," Colleen said.

"They were. Her mom had addiction problems." House looked down at his hands, wondering if raising this subject was such a good idea. He didn't think Andy and Colleen really thought of him as an addict, but this was one problematic piece of his past they were already aware of to some degree.

"I suppose you see a lot of that at the hospital, huh?" Andy asked.

"Yeah, quite a bit - especially in our free clinic. I do clinic hours as well as having my own patients in the Diagnostics department."

"And what about your free time?" Colleen asked. "What do you enjoy doing to relax? I can imagine you must need that with such a stressful job."

"Music is my main refuge. I have a baby grand piano in my apartment, and play it whenever I get the chance." House looked around the living room and only now noticed an upright piano in the far corner. He nodded toward it and asked, "Do you play, Colleen?"

"Oh, no. I wish I could. That piano came from Nick's parents' house – they downsized into a condo last year and didn't have room for it. Carly just started lessons, and she enjoys it, but she's not very far along yet. Maybe you could play for all of us later."

"Sure. I'd like that."

"What else are you interested in?" Colleen asked.

"Well, I love motorcycles, and ride one whenever the weather allows."

"Really?" she asked. "You can do that? I mean, I wasn't sure if your leg would prevent that kind of thing."

"It's usually not a problem. It does get sore on long rides, but that happens a lot anyway, whenever I overdo it in other ways, so I don't deny myself the pleasure of riding."

"Is a long car ride also a strain on it, Greg?" Andy asked. "I hope today's trip didn't aggravate it."

"It's okay if I stop and stretch often, which I remembered to do today."

"So, I hope you don't mind my asking, but what exactly happened with your leg?" Colleen asked. "You were quite young, weren't you?"

"Yes, I was 39, and I don't mind the question at all. Long story short, I had an aneurysm in an artery in my upper thigh, and that allowed a clot to form. The clot cut off blood flow to two of the four quadriceps muscles, which caused parts of those muscles to die. The problem wasn't diagnosed correctly for several days. If it had been, they could've removed the clot and I probably would've been fine. But by the time they had the right answer, there was already extensive muscle damage. I insisted that they first perform bypass surgery, simply removing the clot, but that led to a heart problem, and my girlfriend at the time made a decision to go ahead with debridement surgery, which removed the dead muscle."

"What do you mean? Why would your girlfriend rather than you make a decision like that?" Andy asked.

House sighed and rubbed his hand across his face. "After the first surgery, the pain was excruciating, and I requested that they put me into a chemically-induced coma to get through the worst of it. She was very worried that I'd have further cardiac problems, and my doctor told her that the debridement surgery was an option, and perhaps a safer way to go than simply waiting to see if I had further problems. There was also a possibility that amputation couldn't be avoided, but the debridement was a conservative approach that could save my leg while eliminating the other complications I was having. My girlfriend was my medical proxy, and while I was out she made the decision to let them operate. She knew it wasn't what I wanted, but she felt she needed to do it to save my life."

"Was your girlfriend also a doctor?" Colleen asked. "I mean, how could she think she knew better than you what was necessary?"

"No. Stacy was a lawyer. We were together for five years, and were very much in love."

"But you didn't stay together?" Colleen asked.

"No. She left eventually, but I guess you could say I drove her away. I couldn't forgive her for what she'd done, even though in hindsight I've finally admitted to myself that she may have been right. The amount of muscle they needed to remove is an indication that I probably couldn't have regained full function in any event, and I could've had further problems with other organs because dying muscle releases a substance that's harmful to the rest of the body."

"That must've been tough," Colleen said. "I mean, having her leave while you were dealing with the effects of your injury."

"It was one of the worst times of my life," House admitted. "I had a friend, another doctor at the hospital where I work, who was very helpful through that whole period, though."

"Are you still friends?" Andy asked.

"Yeah. He's still my best friend, in fact."

"And what about since then, Greg?" Colleen asked. "No other long-term girlfriends?"

House looked at her and contemplated what he should say at this point. This was the question which would lead directly into the subject he was most reluctant to discuss. But, he thought - if not now, when? Delaying it would only make ever raising it even harder. He knew once he starting talking about Cuddy there was no going back; they'd know the awful thing he had done, and that knowledge could end his connection to this new family before it had really even started. He hesitated for several moments and then decided he had no choice. Maybe it wasn't necessary to give them every detail, but he had to find a way to tell them the essence of the truth.


	19. Chapter 19

House had made his decision, and knew he needed to tell Andy and Colleen about Cuddy. He was still unsure exactly what and how much to say, but he couldn't debate it in his mind forever, so finally he just began.

"The doctor I mentioned before, the one who was treating me at the time of my infarction – well, we'd been friends on and off since college, and she and I grew closer over the years and finally wound up together a couple of years ago."

"You didn't resent her for her part in Stacy's decision?" Colleen asked.

"For a long time, I did. But ultimately I knew it wasn't her fault. She simply presented Stacy with the options, but in the end it was Stacy's decision. And since then, Lisa and I had worked closely together for many years and always had an attraction to each other as well as a friendship and a shared history."

"Are you still together?" Andy asked.

"Unfortunately, no. She left her job at the hospital and doesn't live in Princeton anymore."

"What happened?" Colleen asked.

"She broke it off, and then I … well, I did something which I'll regret the rest of my life."

Andy and Colleen both looked at him with questioning expressions.

"This is hard for me to talk about, but I want you both to know about it. I need to be honest with you about this if we're gonna have any kind of relationship going forward."

"Go on, Greg, please," Andy said.

"Soon after we broke up, I needed another surgery on my leg, as several tumors had developed as a side effect from an experimental drug I was trying. Luckily, they weren't malignant, and the surgery was successful. But while I was recovering from that, Lisa was very concerned about me and that led me to hope we might get back together. One day I asked her if she was seeing anyone, and she said no, but that evening I went over to her house and saw her through the window with a new guy, obviously on a dinner date. I never knocked on the door, and they left the front room without seeing me, but I was so angry at her, and something in me just snapped. I went back to my car, and then drove down the block, turned around and drove my car into her front window."

"Oh, my God," Colleen said. "Was anyone hurt?"

"My friend was with me, but I'd insisted that he get out of the car. He was standing in her front yard, and he tried to stop me as I drove back. He moved away from the car quickly and fell, breaking his wrist. But, thankfully, no one in the house was hurt, and I was okay, at least physically."

"What happened then?" Colleen asked.

"I walked away. The police were looking for me, of course, and eventually I turned myself in and pled guilty to vehicular reckless endangerment. I served ten months in prison, and have been out now for the last eight months."

They both stared at him in stunned silence.

"I know this is a shock to you. You thought you knew what kind of person I am, and I wouldn't blame either of you if you don't want anything more to do with me. But this is also part of who I am, and I needed you to know about it. I've had a lot of bad things happen in my life, things that were out of my control and hard to handle, and it all sort of caught up to me in that one moment of reckless anger. I've had professional help to deal with those emotions in the past, and at this point I'm just hoping to put it all behind me and get on with my life."

"I don't know what to say," Colleen said, looking at him sadly. "You're right. It is a shock, but it was also brave of you to tell us the truth."

She turned to her father, and Andy was obviously upset, not saying a word. House looked at him, at the anguish on his face, and suddenly wished he'd spared this sweet old man the truth.

"I'm so sorry, Andy," House said. "I wanted you to be proud that I'm your son, and I know I've probably just destroyed that possibility. But I felt like a fraud, keeping this from you."

"I don't understand," Andy finally said. "You're a doctor, Greg – a healer. And you could've killed people. How could someone so intelligent ever do something so violently dangerous?"

"There's no good answer to that, Andy. I know how crazy it was and I spent every day of my jail time thinking about how crazy it was. I felt betrayed by someone I had trusted and loved, and I let the anger out in a destructive way. I'd understand completely if you want me to leave right now and have no further contact with you or your family."

"I can't do that. Whatever you've done, good or bad, you're my son. I'm just trying to make some sense of it."

"It doesn't make sense. I know there's no way to explain it or justify it. I also know I'm very lucky that no one was seriously injured. The fact that I'm back at work now, doing what I love and making a difference in my patients' lives, is still hard for me to believe sometimes. I've been given a second chance, and I'm determined not to blow it or take it for granted."

"Is any of this connected to why you finally confronted your mother?" Andy asked.

"Yes. When I was serving my time, I did a lot of thinking, about my childhood and everything else in my past, and I told myself that when I got out I'd find a way to do the one thing I'd never had the guts to do before – talk to my mother and get some answers about who my biological father really was."

"So, if this hadn't happened, you wouldn't have tried to find us?" Colleen asked.

"I don't know for sure. But I do know that being there, without my freedom and without my work to keep me occupied, well, it forced me to do a lot of soul-searching, and one of the things I decided was that I wanted to find my father someday."

"Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, then," Colleen said. "Because I'm glad you're here, Greg, and I still want to get to know you better. Dad, do you feel the same way?"

"I don't know what I feel. When I found out you were a famous doctor, I was proud - I'm not ashamed to admit it. Now, well – I guess I'm just wondering how you got to the point where you could do something like that."

"I think it was the cumulative effect of a lifetime of frustration," House said.

"A lifetime? Did you carry that anger all the way from your childhood?" Andy asked.

"Some of it, yes." House considered elaborating on that, but then decided he really didn't want to get into this subject, even if it could help to explain his problems or make Andy and Colleen more sympathetic to him. He'd already revealed enough, and they were upset enough as it was. He needed to change the subject before they wanted to know more. So, he said, "But I've come to realize that feeling angry or frustrated is never justification for acting on it. Everyone has feelings like that sometime, and they find a way to control themselves. I'm now confident that nothing like that will ever happen again."

Andy seemed a little calmer now, and didn't ask another question about the reasons for Greg's lifetime of anger. His expression softened, and he finally said, "You know that I was a defense attorney, right, Greg?"

"Yes."

"I was a criminal defense attorney, in fact, and many of my clients were guilty of more serious crimes than you committed. I defended them to the best of my ability, because they were entitled to a defense, and in some cases, I discovered things which helped me to understand why they'd wound up on the wrong path in life. You've made some huge mistakes, obviously, but you've also done some amazing things with your life. You took responsibility for your offense, and paid the price for it. I'm not interested in making you pay further."

"I agree," Colleen said.

House was quiet for several moments, not knowing how to acknowledge the extraordinary understanding and goodness he was witnessing.

"I don't know what to say," he finally said. "I wasn't expecting this reaction. I don't know what I did to deserve having you as my relatives, but I'm sorry I didn't know you sooner, because you're just, well … you're incredible people."

"We're not perfect, by any means," Colleen said. "No one is. All I know is that I can't just forget about you or give up the opportunity to get to know you. I want to know you, Greg, no matter what problems you've had in the past."

"Thanks for that. If you think it would be awkward to meet the rest of your family, though, we don't have to do that today. I could go check into my hotel room and give the two of you a chance to think about this and decide what to tell them. Then you could let me know whether or not you want me to come back later."

Colleen considered that for a moment, and then said, "No, please don't do that. I'll tell Nick about this eventually, of course, but there's no need to do it right away, or to tell the kids. I'd like them all to get a chance to meet you, and we can just keep this between the three of us for now."

"Whatever you think is best, Colleen," House said.

Andy then reached for his crutches and started to rise, and Colleen walked over to him to see if he needed any help.

"I'm okay," he told her. "I just need to change positions for a while." He slowly walked down the hallway to the bathroom, as House and Colleen watched him closely.

When Andy was out of earshot, House said to Colleen, "I'm so sorry about my lousy timing. He's recovering from surgery and I honestly didn't come here expecting to dump all of this on both of you today."

"It's okay, Greg."

"I just couldn't keep lying to you."

"You didn't lie to us. We never asked these questions before. In every conversation we've had with you since we found out you existed, we were focused on getting your medical advice about his operation. We never even asked much about your own life, and we should have. The fact that you came here and were honest with us, not knowing how we'd react – well, that couldn't have been easy, and I give you credit for it."

"Do you really think he can forgive me?"

"Just be good to him, Greg. That'll mean more to him than anything you did in the past."

"I'll try," he said. "I just hope I don't disappoint him."


	20. Chapter 20

As House's afternoon with Andy and Colleen continued, all three of them avoided any further discussion of his crime or time in jail. Instead, Andy told him more about his years in law school, meeting Ellie, moving to Massachusetts and starting his law practice, and Colleen talked about growing up in Newton, what her childhood had been like, and how she and Nick had met. House also discussed his childhood, omitting any mention of John and focusing instead on all the exotic locations they had lived in and his fascination with the different cultures and languages. They also mentioned their respective hobbies, and discovered that chess was a shared passion, so Colleen brought out an old set and House and Andy played a game. At first House figured Andy wouldn't be much competition for him, but he turned out to be quite a worthy opponent, and they both enjoyed the game, with House the ultimate victor.

After the chess game, House and Andy went back to the guest bedroom, and he examined Andy's knee, checking to make sure the incision was healing well and there was no sign of infection. He also reviewed the therapist's instructions, and gave Andy a few tips on making his exercise routine more effective, running through the various movements with him. He was impressed by Andy's fortitude through this process – PT was always painful in the first weeks after surgery, but he doggedly kept at it until the full sets were completed. When they were done, Andy then asked him something he wasn't expecting at all.

"Well, now that you've seen my scars, I'd like to see yours, if that's okay with you."

Surprised at this request, House asked, "Why would you want to do that?"

"I want to understand, Greg. I want to know you, and that's a big part of who you are, isn't it?"

House shook his head, and said, "It's old news. You don't need to see it."

"It's important to me. Please."

House couldn't figure out why this mattered so much to Andy, but he didn't want to say no, so he unzipped his jeans and pushed them down below his knees, revealing the jagged crater marring his right thigh. House watched Andy's face as he did this, and immediately saw that look of shock he'd often noticed on the faces of other people on first seeing his leg. That look faded quickly, though, and was then replaced by one of sadness and compassion.

"Oh, Greg," he said. "I had no idea …"

House quickly pulled his jeans back up and looked away from Andy. He didn't want compassion. He didn't deserve compassion, he told himself, not from this man.

"I'm sorry," Andy said.

"For what?"

"For asking you to do that."

"It's okay. I didn't mind showing you."

"Yes, you did. And I understand why. I'm also sorry for everything you've been through, Greg."

"I deserved most of it, I think."

"Don't say that. No one deserves a life of pain and disability."

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. You think you deserved to be punished for the bad things you've done, right?"

"Well, yes, I did."

"And I agree with that, as far as the legal system is concerned. But you had already been punished for years, hadn't you? I mean, long before you ever did anything illegal."

House wasn't sure what Andy was getting at - whether he meant House's physical problems or losing Stacy or something else, something he had somehow deduced about John without House having to say a word. He didn't want to admit anything more at this point, and said, "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I can tell that your life hasn't been easy, Greg. That's all I meant."

Wanting to leave it at that, House shrugged and said, "Lots of people's lives haven't been easy. When you work in a hospital, that point is driven home pretty much every day. I don't like people feeling sorry for me."

Andy nodded and said, "Okay, son. Then I won't."

House was struck by the use of that word. He remembered John using it, but only rarely. It was much more often "boy" rather than "son," and said with an arrogant condescension, so different from the way Andy had said it, with affection and acceptance.

Late in the afternoon, Nick and the kids came home. He was about 5'10", with dark brown hair, graying slightly at the temples, brown eyes, and an olive complexion. Drew looked a lot like him, a lean, muscular boy who was already approaching his father's height. Carly's hair, which hung several inches past her shoulders, was a lighter shade than her brother's, more of a chestnut brown with reddish highlights. She had beautiful light brown eyes and her mother's dimples.

"Hi Greg," Nick said, shaking his hand. "It's good to meet you."

"Same here," House said.

The kids were also introduced, and then Carly asked, "What do you want us to call you?"

"What do you mean?" House asked.

"Well, Mom said it was up to you. Should it be Uncle Greg or just Greg?"

"Either would be fine with me. I've never been anyone's uncle before, so I'll let you decide."

"I think it should be 'Uncle,' then. You're too old for me to call you Greg."

"Carly," Colleen said. "That's not polite."

House laughed and said, "No, it's fine. I like your style, kid. There's nothing wrong with blunt honesty. I do look much older than your mother, don't I?"

"Well, yeah."

"I'm nine years older, in fact, but I doubt she'll be this wrinkly when she's my age."

"Why don't you all sit down and get acquainted," Colleen said. "I'll get us some snacks." She turned in the direction of the kitchen, and Carly followed her.

"What's for dinner, Mom?" Drew asked, dropping his dirty soccer clothes on a bench in the hallway.

"Lasagna, garlic bread and salad."

"Yum." Drew then turned to House and said, "Mom makes the best lasagna."

"How was your game, Drew?" House asked.

"I scored a goal, but we lost, two to three."

"Have you been playing soccer long?"

"Oh, yeah, since I was really little. What was I, Dad, like four?"

"Five, I think," Nick said.

"What other sports do you play?" House asked.

"Basketball and baseball."

"He's quite an athlete," Nick said. "When he applies himself to practice, that is."

"Wish I was taller for basketball, though. What's your height, Uncle Greg?"

"Six-two."

"Maybe I'll pass Dad and get up past six feet. I am still growing, after all."

"Yeah, like a weed," Nick said.

"What else are you interested in?" House asked.

"Video games."

House chuckled, automatically thinking he'd have no trouble finding something in common with this kid.

"You play them too?" Drew asked.

"I'm slightly addicted, yes. What are your favorites?"

"Street Fighter and Portal. Maybe we can duke it out later."

"Only after you get some of that homework done," Nick said.

"It's Saturday night, Dad. I'll do it tomorrow."

Nick glared at him for a moment and then said, "Oh, okay. I guess it can wait. It's not every day you get to meet a new relative."

"Is he a good student?" House asked.

"Yes, mostly A's and B's," Nick said. "As long as he keeps that up, I have no problem with the occasional video game."

Colleen returned to the living room with a tray of cheese and crackers, and Carly brought in a platter of raw veggies and dip. Drew dove into the food and then plopped on the couch, taking up more space with his gangly frame than was necessary.

"Shove over, Drew," Nick said. "Make room for our company."

"That's okay," House said, instead taking an upholstered easy chair next to Andy.

Andy looked at House and simply said, "Teenagers." Then Carly came over and gave him a hug and a kiss, and he said, "Wouldn't trade them for the world, though."

"Your grandfather says you've both been helping him with his exercises," House said. "Are either of you interested in science or medicine?"

"I am," said Drew. "I've always liked biology, but I never thought much about what's involved in recovering from a surgery until Grandpa's operation. Then Luke – he's the therapist – started explaining how each exercise has a specific purpose, and how bones, muscles, and ligaments all work together. It's pretty cool."

"The more you learn about the human body, the more you realize how much there still is to learn, and I've never stopped finding it fascinating, even after all these years of being a doctor," House said.

"Science isn't my best subject," Carly said. "But I do like helping Grandpa."

"We've always been buddies, right, sweetie?" Andy said.

She nodded, grinned at him and then gave him another hug.

House watched this domestic scene and suddenly felt very out of place. This was a real family, who'd shared a lifetime of memories, but it wasn't really his family, in any way other than genetics, and he knew he couldn't just step in and magically become a part of it. Somehow Colleen sensed his unease, and came over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Greg, would you like to play the piano for a while? Dinner will be ready soon, but I'm sure everyone would love to hear you play."

"Sure," he said, pushing himself up and moving toward the instrument. "What kind of music would you like to hear?"

"What do you usually play?" Andy asked.

"Oh, everything, from classical to blues to jazz to rock."

"I'd love to hear some classical," Colleen said.

He settled onto the bench and started with some Bach – a suite followed by a three-part invention. Then he finished with the hauntingly beautiful Chopin Etude in E major, one of his all-time favorites. He was in his own world when he was playing, and the music kept him from feeling the isolation of being the outsider in this room. When he was finished, his fingers still at last and his eyes closed, he remembered where he was, and looked back at everyone, silently watching him in wonder.

Carly was the first to break the silence. "Wow, I wish I could play like that," she said.

"That was fantastic, Greg," Andy added. "You're extremely talented."

"Did you start when you were very young?" Nick asked.

"Yes, my Mom started teaching me before I was even in school. I didn't have many years of formal lessons, but once I could read music I just picked a lot of it up on my own."

"She did a good job," Andy said wistfully, suddenly vividly remembering the beautiful face of the young Blythe House.

House nodded at him, and thoughts of his generous, caring mother reminded him that his childhood hadn't been bereft of love. He had a history with her, the same way Colleen and her kids had a history with Andy, and he realized, for the first time in a long time, that he was grateful for that.


	21. Chapter 21

Drew was right about the lasagna; Colleen said it was an old recipe from Nick's mother, and House thought it was delicious. After the enjoyable dinner, more conversation, and some video game action with both kids, House left by around nine and drove to a nearby Hampton Inn for some much-needed private time. It had been an emotional day, which had gone better than he could've expected but had still been draining, and he needed to stretch out, take his pills, and just be alone with his thoughts.

His phone rang around ten thirty, and he glanced at the screen before answering. He didn't really feel like talking, but it was Wilson, who was no doubt chomping at the bit to hear about how things had gone.

"Hey, Wilson. What's up?"

"That's my question. Nothing happening here is remotely as interesting as what today must've been like for you. Spill."

"It went pretty well."

"What are they like?"

"They're like a twenty-first century version of a Norman Rockwell painting, Wilson."

"How so?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm exaggerating, I guess. Maybe they were on their best behavior for me, the same way I was for them. But I liked them all, despite the overt sweetness."

"Were all of them there the whole day?"

"No. Nick and the kids didn't come home until around 5:30, so I spent the whole afternoon with just Andy and Colleen."

"How did that go?"

"I told them, Wilson."

"What do you mean? How much did you tell them?"

"I wasn't planning to, really. But they asked about my leg, so I wound up telling them about Stacy, and then that led to a question about other girlfriends, so I told them about Cuddy. And, well, you know what that led to."

"You mean you told them about the car and the house and jail?"

"The PG-rated condensed version, but yes."

"God. How did they take it?"

"Amazingly well. Of course, they were both shocked and upset at first, Andy more so than Colleen, but they seemed to accept it eventually and then we moved on to other topics. I did leave out some of the most damning details, though."

"Such as?"

"I didn't tell them about the three months on the lam before I finally came back and turned myself in. And I didn't tell them about the self-surgery or what really led to it."

"Baby steps, House. I'm surprised you told them as much as you did, frankly."

"I didn't tell them about Dominika either."

"What's to tell? It isn't a real marriage, and it's not like you'll ever have to introduce them to her."

"He was a lawyer, Wilson. I'm sure he knows exactly what statutes we've broken by attempting to defraud the government."

"Well, who knows what'll happen? Maybe she'll change her mind about wanting to stay in the country and you can divorce her before you even get to her green card hearing. Did you leave out anything else?"

"We didn't get into what happened when I was in jail. I mean, they don't know I was about to get out early and blew it by breaking the rules to save a fellow inmate."

"You should've told them about that. It's not damning; it's heroic."

"I wasn't sure they'd have that opinion."

"Did you tell them that Foreman later got you out on parole to save my lung transplant patient?"

"No."

"That would've been another point in your favor."

"I revealed enough for one afternoon. I think they kind of needed time to digest everything I dumped on them."

"How did it go after the rest of the family came home?"

"Okay. The kids are into video games, so we bonded over that, and I played the piano for them a little."

"Do any of them play?"

"Carly's taking lessons. She's twelve, and only started a short while ago, but she's not bad. She was shy about playing after my concert, but she did finally play one piece after dinner, and then showed off with some scales."

"What's Colleen like?"

"She's great. She's devoted to her family but still her own person. And she's a fabulous cook. I haven't had a meal like that in a long time."

"Are you going over there again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, they said to come for brunch. I think I'll probably leave by early afternoon, though. Don't wanna wear out my welcome."

"Has Andy made a decision about letting your mom contact him?"

"No, he didn't mention it, and I wasn't gonna bring it up. But I think he may be thawing on that subject."

"Why do you think that?"

"Just a look in his eyes after I played the piano and told them how she taught me as a kid."

"You didn't tell them about your dad, did you?"

"No. I couldn't."

"Do you think you ever will?"

"What's the point, Wilson? It would only make Andy feel even worse about missing out on my childhood, and it certainly won't make him more inclined to forgive my mother."

"I guess, but maybe they'd be more inclined to forgive you."

"I think they have the capacity to do that without knowing. And that's bull, anyway. Nothing that happened in the distant past is an excuse for all the trouble I've gotten myself into."

"I'm not saying it is. I just think it might help them understand you a little better."

"Drop it, Wilson. It's not happening."

"Okay. Has your mom called to see how things went today?"

"No, not yet. I'm sure she will though. She's probably waiting until the weekend's over with and I'm back home."

"Call me from the road. Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow night if you're back by then."

"Sure. 'Night, Wilson."

"Goodnight."


	22. Chapter 22

House slept in on Sunday morning. A free breakfast was offered in the hotel lobby, but he had only coffee, not wanting to spoil his appetite for whatever Colleen was planning for brunch. He checked out and went over to the Binetti home around eleven, giving them most of the morning to themselves. While driving over he wondered for a moment whether they were church-goers. It was Sunday morning, after all, and from what they'd said the day before, it seemed that Nick's family was rather old-world Italian Catholic. He didn't want to disrupt their usual routine, but couldn't help hoping that religion wasn't a big part of their lives, since he'd always found it so hard to relate to true believers.

He pulled up to the house and saw Drew shooting baskets in the driveway. The boy sank several shots in a row, from various distances, while House was getting out of the car and approaching the property.

"Morning," House said as he walked up the driveway. "You're pretty good at that. What position do you play?"

"Guard," Drew answered. "But if I grow a few more inches maybe I'll be a forward next year."

"Well, whatever height you end up being, it seems like you're a natural athlete. Being tall does have some disadvantages, you know."

"Like what?"

"Leg room, for one thing - on planes and buses, in movie theaters – lots of places. It never seems like there's enough for me."

"I guess." Drew laid the ball on the grass and went up to the front door ahead of House. "You're right on time. Mom said brunch would be ready soon."

As they walked in the door, Colleen came up and gave House a hug, and this time he hugged her back, more than he had the day before, at least. Then he said, "Can I expect this greeting every time we see each other?"

"Get used to it," Drew said. "Mom's a hugger."

"Yeah, I am. Always have been," Colleen said.

"Oh, it's not a problem, believe me," House said, smiling at her.

He greeted everyone and noticed that Andy wasn't in the living room. Then he saw him out on the back deck, walking back and forth. House nodded toward the deck and asked, "Is he okay?"

"Yes," Colleen said. "He did his exercises out there this morning. He says he's been cooped up inside too much and wanted to get some fresh air. Now I guess he's just practicing walking."

"I'll go out and say hi," House said. Colleen nodded, and House walked to the back of the house, opened the sliding door and stepped out onto the deck.

"Good morning, Andy," he said. "This is a good idea. It can get boring to always do your PT in the same place. How's it feeling today?"

Andy stopped walking and balanced on his crutches. "Not bad. The surrounding tissues and muscles are still sore, of course, but it feels great to bend and not feel any pain in the joint itself. Every day I'm getting more convinced that this was definitely the right thing to do."

"As it heals more, I think you'll be very pleased with the results."

"I already am. Thanks so much for encouraging me to do it, Greg."

At that moment House's phone rang, and he pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Blythe, and he certainly didn't want to take the call here, so he let it keep ringing. It would go to voicemail eventually and he'd return the call after he left Providence.

"You can answer it," Andy said. "We don't want to keep you from your work, especially if you have a current patient who needs you."

"No, it's not about work. It's my mom. I'll call her back later."

"That's Blythe calling?" Andy said, and House picked up a hint of surprised excitement in his voice.

"Yeah. If I answer it, would you want to say hello?"

Andy seemed torn between wanting to say yes and still not knowing what to say to her if he did. While he hesitated, the ringing stopped. House put the phone to his ear and said, "She's leaving a message."

Andy moved over to a wooden deck chair and sat down. Then he looked up at Greg and said, "I guess I've been pretty stubborn about this, huh?"

"No, I wouldn't say that, Andy. She understands why you haven't wanted to contact her."

"Well, now I think maybe I do. When you call her back, you can give her my number and tell her she can call me if she wants."

At last, House thought. He was a little surprised, but not shocked, that Andy had come to this decision, and he knew his mother would be relieved at the news.

"Sure," House said. "She'll be very happy to hear that."

"I'm still not sure what to say to her, but she's right – we should talk."

Colleen then opened the door and came out on the deck. "The food will be ready soon; hope everyone's hungry."

"After that meal last night, I've been salivating all morning at the thought of eating more of your cooking," House said. "What's on the menu?"

"I made a frittata, with onions, bell peppers, pancetta and mushrooms. And, if you're more in the mood for lunch than breakfast, there's also homemade curried chicken salad."

"I know you probably hear this all the time, but you're really an amazing cook, Colleen."

"Thanks. I love to cook. It's actually relaxing for me."

"I got into it myself a while back, even took some classes," House said.

"Really? But you didn't keep it up?"

He shrugged. "It's not that easy to scale down recipes for one person, and I don't often have company."

"Well, you're welcome here any time. I mean, I know it's a long trip, and you're busy, but I hope you know that we'd like to see you again before too long."

"Thanks, so would I."

After another delectable meal, House visited with the whole family a few more hours and then left by mid-afternoon. At one point he asked what they'd be doing on a typical Sunday, if he hadn't been there, and Colleen said it wouldn't be much different than what they'd done today – a big meal in the late morning, relaxing with the newspaper, the kids busy with homework or sports. From that he deduced that church-going wasn't part of their routine, and he felt relief in that knowledge, as he knew it had the potential to create a rift between them. He knew himself, and he'd long ago realized that he'd never really understand people who claimed to be deeply religious.

Before he got on the highway, he stopped for gas and called Blythe back. She asked how the visit had gone, and he gave her a quick recap. He specifically told her about his difficult conversation with Andy and Colleen, because he thought she should know they were now aware that he'd been in prison. She seemed surprised that he'd told them that, as she'd been worried herself about what their reaction to it would be. Then he told her that Andy was ready to hear from her, and her reaction was immediately positive.

"Oh, Greg," she said. "That's great - I've been thinking about him so much."

"He's been thinking about you too. You can call him whenever you want."

"Why do you think he changed his mind?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe he finally just realized that it's time. He's recovering well from his surgery and feeling okay, and I think he's now ready to hear whatever you want to say to him."

"Do you think it's too soon if I call him tonight?"

"No. I told him you've been wanting to do this for a while, so he probably won't be surprised to hear from you right away."

"Now I'm getting nervous about it."

"Mom, you know what I've discovered lately?"

"What's that, honey?"

"When you're nervous or doubtful about starting a difficult conversation, the longer you put it off the harder it becomes. I know you want to talk to him. So just pick up the phone and do it."

"You're right. I will, Greg. Wish me luck."

"You won't need it. But, okay – good luck, Mom."

"Thanks. Drive carefully on your way home."

"Will do. Bye, Mom."


	23. Chapter 23

On Sunday evening, Andy was watching TV in his bedroom when the phone rang. Colleen answered it and then came into the room and told him it was Blythe. She seemed unsure whether or not he'd want to take the call, but he reached out for the phone and asked her to leave, as he wanted to be alone for this conversation. He could feel his heart pounding, and took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"Hello, Blythe," he said.

"Andy. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay – a little better each day."

"It's wonderful to hear your voice. Thanks for letting me call."

"I thought it was time for us to talk."

"I still can't really believe this is you. I've thought about you so much lately, Andy."

"Same here."

"Before you say anything else, I want to tell you – well, I know there's no way to apologize for what I did, but I have to say it anyway. I'm sorry, Andy. So, so sorry. You'll never know how much."

"I'm sure you are."

"I don't know if you'll ever be able to forgive me, but I had to say it."

"I don't know either. I'm sure Greg has told you – I was very reluctant to talk to you all this time, because I was afraid of what I might say. I was afraid I'd get angry and lash out at you, and I don't wanna do that."

"You can say whatever you want to say. I was expecting you to be angry."

"I understand why you didn't say anything in the beginning, Blythe. You were young and confused and scared, but in all the years since, you never once considered telling me I had a son? I find that hard to believe, and it's very upsetting when I think about it."

"I did consider it, often, but I just couldn't do it. I couldn't do it to John, or to Greg. If he hadn't confronted me about it, I doubt I ever would've told him. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it's the truth."

"How could you think I wouldn't want to know about him, and be part of his life, even if you and I weren't together?"

"That's the thing. I knew you would. I knew you'd want to see him and spend time with him, and John honestly thought he was Greg's father, at least at the start, so there was no way to even raise the issue without hurting him horribly."

"What do you mean – at least at the start? Did there come a time when he figured out he wasn't Greg's father?"

"I don't know for sure. Maybe. We didn't talk about it. We couldn't talk about it."

"Greg has implied that they didn't get along very well."

"They were very different people, with different interests and personalities."

"Is that all? I get the feeling it might've been more than that."

Blythe knew it wasn't up to her to tell Andy about this. If Greg wanted Andy to know about it, he would have to tell Andy himself. She had to find a way to change the subject.

"John was actually quite proud of Greg, for all his gifts, but he didn't really understand him, not like I did, and he had a hard time expressing affection, even though I know he felt it."

"It must have been challenging to raise such a bright child."

"It was, but it was also thrilling. I recognized, very early on, that he was different from other kids. Long before his first IQ test, it was obvious that he was brilliant, and sometimes I felt inadequate, incapable of giving him everything he needed."

"He played the piano for us last night, and told us that you started teaching him at a very young age."

"Yes. Even at two or three, his mind was like a sponge. He picked things up so quickly, and it was a constant challenge to find new things to keep him occupied. Once he was in school, he was far ahead of the other kids, and skipped a grade in elementary school, but they advised against skipping him again, so he was bored a lot and therefore got in trouble at school sometimes. I tried to give him extra, more advanced work at home to keep him stimulated. We also moved often, so he was always the new kid in each school, and we didn't stay long enough anywhere for him to make lasting friends. It wasn't easy."

"It seems as if many things in his life have been hard. He told us some of the details about his surgeries, and about what happened with Stacy and with Lisa."

"He's been through an awful lot. Did he tell you about his other injuries?"

"No. He's had other injuries?"

"He was on a bus that crashed a few years ago, and sustained a fairly serious skull fracture. And before that a crazy person somehow got through security at the hospital and shot him twice, in the neck and the abdomen."

"Oh my God!" Andy said. "No, I didn't know about either of those. Does he have any lasting problems from those injuries?"

"Thankfully, no. But his leg is a continuing problem, of course. Even though he doesn't talk to me much about it, I know that he's in a fair amount of pain nearly all the time, and some days are much worse than others."

"I wish there were something that could help him, like this surgery they did on me."

"Well, if there were, he'd certainly be the first to know about it. He's a voracious reader, and is constantly keeping abreast of new developments in all areas of medicine."

"How much did he tell you, at the time, about why he went to jail, Blythe?"

"He actually didn't tell me much, but his friend James did."

"Is that the friend who was with him that day, and fell and hurt his arm?"

"Yes. He's been a wonderful friend to Greg for a long time, and he explained what happened to me soon after the incident."

"Why didn't Greg tell you himself?"

"I'm sure he was ashamed. He hates talking about things he regrets; at least he used to. I think it's clear he's getting better at that lately. All I know is that he loved Lisa for years, long before they were actually dating, and I know he feels awful about what happened."

"I was shocked when he told me, of course. But I'm trying to understand it. He served his time and I want to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He's made mistakes, Andy. He knows that. I was surprised he told you about all of this so soon, but obviously that shows he wants to be honest with you and allow you to get to know him, warts and all."

"What about you, Blythe? How is your life now? Do you enjoy living in Kentucky?"

"Yes. I have a circle of close friends here, and still enjoy playing bridge and getting together with them often. What about you? Greg says you have a lovely daughter and two wonderful grandchildren."

"They're a joy, yes, and they've taken very good care of me these last couple of weeks."

"You're lucky to have grandchildren. That's one thing I've missed in life."

"When did your husband die, Blythe?"

"It was 2008, in September."

"My Ellie died a year earlier, just before Christmas of 2007. I still miss her so much."

"It's a big adjustment, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Andy, there's something else I want you to know."

"Yes?"

"I did love you, back then. I loved John too, so I had to break it off, but you meant a lot to me. I hope you know that."

"At the time I wasn't sure how you felt. I was hoping to spend the rest of my life with you, and then it was just over. But, if I'm honest with myself, then, yeah, I guess I knew you were sincere."

"Oh, yes. Please don't doubt that. And you gave me something so precious, Andy. You gave me my boy."

Andy was starting to feel overwhelmed by this conversation, and wanted to get off before his voice betrayed his emotion. "Thank you for calling, Blythe. I'm glad we finally connected."

"Would it be okay if I call you again sometime, Andy? You know, just to keep in touch?"

"Yes. I'll look forward to it."

"Okay. Take care of yourself. I hope you're feeling better soon."

"Thanks. Goodnight, Blythe."

_**(Author's Note: I'll probably be wrapping up this story fairly soon, because canon is obviously overtaking it, and I may be more interested in writing fill-in scenes or other stories related to what's actually happening on the show. But, it's likely to go on for at least a few more chapters.)**_


	24. Chapter 24

In the next couple of months, House kept in touch with both Andy and Colleen, as did Blythe. Andy's rehab was progressing well, and he'd stayed with Colleen's family for most of May but was able to return to his home in early June. House hadn't planned another visit just yet, but in mid-June Blythe revealed that she and Andy had been talking often and she wanted to see him. She'd scheduled a flight to Boston for the second week of July, and asked if he'd also want to come then. He was happy, of course, that Andy and Blythe seemed to be getting along better now, but he wasn't sure that he should be there for their first visit together. Blythe hadn't seen him since Christmas, though, and was eager for him to come, so he agreed to drive up to Newton the day after her arrival.

He had lunch with Wilson the day after talking to Blythe, and, as always, wanted to get Wilson's take on what was happening.

"So, Mom will be at Andy's a whole day before I show up. Think it's safe to leave those two alone together?"

"You really think something will happen between them? I mean, they're both in their seventies and he's still recovering from surgery."

"I'm kidding, Wilson. I doubt very much that it's gotten to that point. All they've done is talk so far, and they haven't seen each other for 53 years."

"Yeah, but he loved her, and those youthful loves are usually intense and not easily forgotten."

"Like you and Sam?"

"Yeah. The first love is often the hardest to completely let go of."

"I think she just wants to see him in person after talking all these weeks, and be a friend more than anything else. They're both kind of lonely."

"You really think she'd pay to fly to Boston just to see a friend?"

"Sure. She's got plenty of money and plenty of free time."

"Well, it'll be interesting to see what happens. Do you think you're likely to divulge any more secrets?"

"Not likely."

"Any news from Dominika lately?"

"I didn't tell you? Yes, actually. She emailed me the other day to say she's back in the Ukraine visiting her family for a while. One of her brothers has been sick – liver cancer – and she says she'll probably be there indefinitely."

"Unless he goes fast. So, no need to tell them anything on that front."

"That's what I'm thinking."

"You'd better remind your Mom not to mention it."

"She's pretty good about that stuff. She told me Andy asked some leading questions about my relationship with my dad in their first conversation, and she found a way to change the subject. She knows I don't want him burdened with that."

"You know, it's strange, now that you know you're not really part of the House family, that nearly everyone still calls you House."

House shrugged. "It's my name."

"I know, but really you should've been Gregory MacLaren. I could start calling you Mac if you want."

House shook his head. "No, I'm House, and I'll always be House. You know what I've realized about all this lately, Wilson?"

"What's that?"

"I can't get away from John House, no matter what. Sure, I don't have his genes, and it's clear, in several obvious ways, that I do have Andy's, but Andy didn't raise me. He called me 'son' once when I was there. Did I tell you that?"

"No."

"But I don't think I'd ever feel comfortable calling him 'dad'. For better or worse, John was my dad."

"That's what you said at his funeral."

"It's true. And despite the fact that he was a bastard in a lot of ways, I'm actually starting to remember some of the good stuff, too. It wasn't all bad, and I even sort of have compassion for him sometimes. I mean, how would you feel if you doubted whether the kid you were raising was really yours?"

"Not great, but I don't think it would lead me to abuse the kid. I can't believe you're defending him."

"I'm not defending him. I just think I understand him a little more than I used to."

"Maybe that's because you now know Andy, and have a second chance to have a decent father in your life."

"Maybe. But, as much as I'm glad we met, and want to get to know both him and Colleen better, it can't change the past. Maybe it's just allowed me to let go of some of my anger towards John."

"Have you told your mother that?"

"No. It was hard enough to raise the subject the first time. I'm trying to give her a break and not make her have to think about it too much."

"But knowing you're less angry than you used to be; that's a good thing."

"It still wouldn't keep her from feeling guilty about failing to protect me, though. She's got other things in her life now, and I want her to enjoy them."

"Yeah, we're back where we started. Just how much do you really want her to enjoy seeing Andy, huh? For real – no jokes."

"They're two consenting adults. Senior citizen adults, in fact. If they both feel physically up to it, who am I to interfere?"

"Sounds like you'd almost welcome it."

"She could do a lot worse. She hasn't really dated at all since my dad died."

"Will she be staying at his house?"

"She said she'll make a hotel reservation, but he does have extra bedrooms, so maybe he'll convince her to stay, even if it remains a platonic visit."

"And what about you?"

"I'll play it by ear. He's got a big house; there's no reason I couldn't stay there."

"Is Colleen planning to be around when you're there?"

"Yeah, she'll drive up on Saturday. I don't know if Nick or the kids will come, though."

"Wish I could be a fly on the wall for this visit. It could be fascinating to watch."

"You're such a nosy gossip sometimes, Wilson."

"I know. Can't help it. You'll give me updates when you're there, won't you?"

"Sure. How could I deny you your melodrama fix?"


	25. Chapter 25

**[Author's Note: Now that NASCAR (a dubious sport, which seems like a colossal waste of gas, money, and airtime to me, though there are those who love it, I suppose, and House would probably be one of them) has forced the delayed airing of the much-anticipated "Love is Blind" episode, my alternative take on the identity of House's bio dad won't be made obsolete until March 19****th****, and I'm hoping to finalize this story by then and focus on other fics dealing with canon. For now, though, hope you enjoy the remainder of "The Sword and the Gun," which will continue for a few more chapters.]**

On Friday morning, July 13th, Blythe boarded her flight with some trepidation. It wasn't fear of flying; she'd traveled often throughout her life, and actually loved the adventure of seeing new places. It also wasn't triskaidekaphobia, as she'd never been one to buy into superstitions such as fear of Friday the 13th. No, she was just anxious about finally seeing Andy after all this time. Their conversations had been easy and relaxing lately, and she felt an old familiarity with him, like they were definitely in tune with each other and could almost anticipate what the other person was about to say. For the first few times, she'd always been the one to call him, but then he started initiating contact, and she was both surprised and excited every time she'd answered the phone and unexpectedly heard his voice. She'd also spoken to Colleen a few times, when he'd been staying there, and she'd been cordial to Blythe, if a bit distant. Blythe surmised that she was probably wary of anyone who had lied to her father for so long and obviously hurt him badly. She fully understood that, and was therefore even more anxious about meeting Colleen.

Her flight arrived at Logan on time, and she picked up her rental car without much hassle. She hadn't checked a bag, since all she'd needed was a carry-on for this short trip, so she was on her way without delay and found her way to Newton with no major mistakes. She located his street, and then the address, made easier by Greg's description of the house and a few landmarks in the surrounding area. She parked in the driveway and walked up the slope to the front door, ringing the bell and then audibly exhaling, not even realizing she'd been holding her breath the last few moments. Breathe, she told herself.

He opened the door and stood there before her, not as tall as she'd remembered but with those same soft blue, kind eyes. "Hello, Blythe," he said. "It's wonderful to see you."

"Andy," she said, walking up to him and instinctively giving him a hug and light kiss on the cheek. "You're looking great. How are you feeling?"

"Way better than I used to. It's coming along well. Come on in."

They walked into the living room and he moved toward a chair by the fireplace. He held a cane in his right hand, but she noticed that he didn't lean on it heavily and had only a slight limp, as his gait looked confident. She moved to the couch and took a seat there. He stared at her for several long, silent moments.

"God, Blythe. You're still beautiful."

"That's nice of you to say, but I'm definitely showing my age."

"Not to me. I look at you and still see that gorgeous 22-year-old."

"Have you had your vision checked lately?" she teased.

"I mean it. You're still a beautiful woman," he said, smiling warmly.

She looked around the room and noticed the photos on the bookshelves.

"Your home is very welcoming, Andy. Everything seems so cozy and comfortable."

"Well, I've been here a long time, so it's certainly lived-in."

She got up and walked over to the bookshelves, picking up a recent photo of Colleen.

"Is this Colleen?" she asked.

"Yes, that's my girl," he said with pride.

"Wow - she really does have Greg's eyes, and the same dimples, too."

"Her whole family was so helpful to me when I stayed with them. Despite the circumstances, I enjoyed spending so much time with them."

"I'm looking forward to meeting her. And this must be Ellie," Blythe said, looking at another photo.

"Yes."

"You said you met her when you were in law school, but I've never asked exactly how you met."

"Well, my parents had been friendly with her parents for years - our grandparents actually knew each other from Scotland - but they lived up here in Massachusetts and we were down in Jersey, so we didn't see them very often. I'd met her a few times when we were both kids, but we didn't start dating until I was out of the service and at Duke."

"Was she also in college at the time?"

"No, she was already out of school and working. She'd gone to Katharine Gibbs in Boston for an Associate's degree."

"Did she continue to work after you were married?"

"Yes, she was a legal secretary for several years, before Colleen was born. What about you, Blythe?"

"Oh, no. I would've liked to have a career, actually, something with books or writing, but we moved far too often, and John wanted me to be able to be home with Greg."

"He said you were a 'word person' – did you ever try writing yourself?"

"A little - just some poetry, actually. It's nothing very impressive."

"I'd still love to read it. I mean, if you kept any of it."

"That would probably embarrass me, but I'll think about it."

"You know, we've been talking all these weeks, and I feel like there's still so much to discover about each other."

"Well, we do have a lot of years to catch up on."

"We have all weekend to catch up. I'm hoping you've changed your mind about a hotel – there's plenty of room here."

"I'll see. Greg did say you have a couple of spare bedrooms, and I think he may decide to stay here tomorrow night. But we don't want to intrude or make things too hectic for you."

"I've been looking forward to this for a long time, Blythe. I'd like you to stay, but it's up to you."

"Well, I suppose today really is our only day alone together, since the others will arrive tomorrow. And I'd like to spend as much time as possible getting reacquainted, so, okay – I guess I'll stay here."

"Good." Andy stood up then and took Blythe's hand with his free arm, leading her toward the back of the house. "It's a beautiful summer day; let's relax out on the patio for a while," he said, "and start getting reacquainted."


	26. Chapter 26

Blythe called House on Saturday morning, and told him she'd stayed at Andy's the night before. She didn't go into much detail, but House got the impression that the visit was going smoothly so far, and as he left for his drive up to Newton, he couldn't help but wonder just what was happening between the two of them. He stopped only once on the way, to get gas, and was listening to CDs and lost in thought for the rest of the trip, forgetting to stop again to stretch and walk. There was quite a bit of traffic this time, so the trip took longer than the first time he'd gone with Wilson, who had done most of the driving that time. He wasn't feeling very well when he finally arrived around two o'clock, but figured it would ease up once he was out of the car and moving around.

He saw two cars near the house as he parked across the street. One was in the driveway, an unfamiliar Ford Focus that was likely his mother's rental. Colleen's black SUV with Rhode Island plates was parked on the road, next to the driveway. So, they were all here already, waiting for him. He limped heavily up to the door and rang the bell. Colleen opened it and greeted him with the expected hug.

"Hi, Greg," she said. "We were starting to worry about you. Was there a lot of traffic?"

"Yes, more than last time," he said. "Hope you didn't wait on me for lunch."

"Well, yes, we did, but we've been snacking a little."

Blythe came up right behind Colleen and hugged him tightly. "It's so good to see you, honey. It's been too long."

"Hi, Mom," he said, hugging her back and giving her a kiss. He walked into the living room and greeted Andy. "You're looking better, Andy. Feeling well?"

"Yeah - very well, in fact. I don't think I'll need the cane much longer."

"That's great. I'm not surprised – you're pretty determined, and I'm sure you've kept up with the PT. Good job."

"Have a seat, Greg," Colleen said. "Lunch will be on the table in a few minutes."

He sat on the couch with Blythe and looked at her intently, trying to decipher from her expression just how things were going, with Andy as well as with Colleen. She smiled at him coyly, and he raised his eyebrows in response. Then he absent-mindedly starting rubbing his leg, and Blythe, ever attuned to his body language, picked up on it immediately.

"Are you feeling okay, Greg?" she asked. "Your leg's bothering you, isn't it?"

"It's okay – just a little sore from the drive."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I've been sitting too long in one position, though. I need to walk and stretch it out. Maybe I'll pace around the backyard for a few minutes before lunch." He stood up to head for the yard, and gasped at the first step, nearly falling. "Damn," he said under his breath.

Blythe went to him quickly, and reached for his free arm. "You're not okay. Andy – do you have a heating pad?"

"Yes," Andy said. "It's in the hall closet."

"That's not necessary," House said through gritted teeth. "Just let me go try to walk it off."

"Okay," she said, feeling helpless as she watched him limp heavily to the back door and go out onto the patio.

"Does this happen often?" Andy asked, once House was outside.

Blythe sighed. "I don't know how often. He never talks about it. But there are days it's just worse than usual, and unfortunately, this seems to be one of them."

Colleen walked in from the kitchen and asked, "What's going on? Where's Greg?"

"He's walking out in the backyard," Andy said. "His leg's giving him some trouble."

Colleen looked out the window and saw him walking back and forth with a determined glare on his face, yet wincing noticeably at every step on his right side.

"Poor guy," she said. "Is there anything we can do for him?"

"I've already tried," Blythe said. "When he's like this, the best thing is just to leave him alone and let him deal with it himself. He doesn't like people hovering. Let's just give him a few minutes."

Out in the yard, House paced, hoping the cramping and spasms would work themselves out quickly. He took his pill bottle out of his pocket and dry-swallowed two, and then glanced back at the house and saw the three of them watching him from the window. Great, he thought to himself - of all days for this to happen. He was here to attempt to move forward with these relationships, and now he'd become the unwitting, and unwilling, center of attention. He truly hated it when everyone was looking at him and worrying about him. But it was better to do this out here, he thought, than to pace around the living room and have to see their faces as they watched him struggle through it. After about ten minutes, the Vicodin was starting to kick in and the pain was ebbing a little, but he kept walking, hoping to stave off another flare-up. Eventually, after another few minutes, Blythe came out of the house and walked over to him.

"Any better?" she asked him softly.

"A little. I'll come back in pretty soon. You can go tell them."

"Don't push it, honey. Take as long as you need."

He stopped walking and said, "I'm sorry, Mom."

"Nonsense. It's not your fault. They understand, Greg."

"But I'm spoiling the visit."

"No, you aren't. Did you really think you could go forever without them seeing you in pain? They're family. It's okay for them to know the truth about what you go through sometimes."

"But I didn't want them to see it."

"I know. It was inevitable, though. Don't obsess about it."

"So, while we're alone out here, Mom – tell me, how are things really going with them? I mean, you've been here a whole day already, and you didn't say much this morning."

"It's going well. Andy and I caught up on a lot of life history yesterday, and then had dinner and a relaxing evening together. He's … well, he's pretty amazing. He seems to have really forgiven me, and that's more than I expected so soon. We're getting along very well."

"So you decided to stay here last night?"

"Yes – in the guest bedroom, Greg."

"I didn't ask which bedroom."

"But you wanted to know."

"So, you see this as just a friendship?"

"I didn't say that. I didn't say that nothing physical happened between us, or won't in the future. We're just taking it slowly."

"And how about Colleen? When did she show up today?"

"Just a couple of hours ago; we haven't had that much time to get acquainted yet, but she's been very cordial."

"Cordial. That sounds rather formal."

"Well, she may be a little wary of my intentions toward her father, which I can understand."

"Yeah. She loves him, a lot."

"I know. And I'm happy for him that he has such a devoted daughter. If I were her, I'd be a little suspicious of me too."

House glanced at the house again. "They're probably wondering what we're doing out here so long."

Blythe shrugged, and said "Let them wonder."

House laughed. "You're getting pretty brave in your old age, Mom."

"It's about time, don't you think?" she said, looking at him with a mixture of guilt and sadness.

"Better late than never," he said. "Come on, let's go back in."

She took his left arm and they slowly made their way back to the house.


	27. Chapter 27

As Blythe and House returned to Andy's living room, Colleen started putting lunch on the dining room table. There were two homemade salads - a carrot and raisin salad and a potato salad - along with roast beef, ham and rolls. House was dreading the questions he expected from Andy and Colleen about how he was feeling, but remarkably, they simply took their seats at the table and waited for Blythe and House to join them, acting as if what they'd just witnessed was the most ordinary thing in the world. His mom must've said something to them, he figured, letting them know how much he hated talking about his pain after an episode like the one he'd just had. Instead, they immediately brought up other unrelated subjects as everyone dug into the food, which helped take his mind off the remaining discomfort. He was grateful to all of them for the way they were reacting, but especially grateful to his mother for whatever she'd said to them. The food was again delicious, and Blythe asked Colleen for her salad recipes, which was the ultimate compliment.

House's leg remained somewhat balky all afternoon, though it was manageable. At one point he did silently accept the heating pad that Blythe found and brought to him, stretching out on the couch for a while with a pillow under his knee and letting the heat soak into his thigh, which helped. At Andy's request, Blythe had brought an entire photo album chronicling Greg's childhood, and she sat with the two of them and went through it while House rested, regaling them with stories of his youthful escapades, which sometimes made him cringe with embarrassment. Every once in a while he'd ask to see a certain photo she was discussing, and then chimed in with his own memories. When they were nearing the end of the album, Colleen remarked that there hadn't seemed to be a lot of photos of John, and Blythe tensed up, glancing at House and then at Andy.

"Well, he was away a lot, on various deployments, and when he was home he wasn't that big on picture-taking. I have other albums that have more photos of him, though," she said.

"How old were you when he was in Vietnam, Greg?" Andy asked.

"He did two tours. I think the first started in '64 – is that right, Mom?"

Blythe nodded.

"So I was four or five then. The second tour began in '67, when I was eight."

"That must've been hard," Colleen said, "to have him be away so much."

"Mom and I always managed fine on our own," House replied curtly, not wanting to get into details. The fact that his happiest childhood memories were nearly all from the times when John was absent from their home wasn't something he could reveal without having them follow up with more questions.

In the late afternoon, Blythe and Colleen went for a walk, so Colleen could show her the neighborhood and they could have some private time to get to know each other. That left House and Andy alone together in the house, and they decided to play a game of chess, since they'd enjoyed that on the last visit in Providence.

They played in silence for a while, and then Andy said, "Your mother's a wonderful woman, Greg."

"You don't have to tell me that, but I'm glad you think so."

"She seems to really understand you, and even though she says you haven't spent much time together in the last few years, the two of you seem to be quite close."

"Well, yes, we are - especially lately, I'd say. For a long time there was a wall between us, even though we loved each other, because neither of us had the guts to face the giant elephant in the room."

"You mean, the fact that John wasn't your biological father."

"Yeah."

"You know, the first time she phoned me, she said that she might never have told you if you hadn't raised the issue with her."

"I can believe that. She's always hated confrontation, and her role in our family was always as the mediator, the conciliator."

"You sound as though there was a lot of confrontation, and a lot that needed mediating."

Dangerous waters, House immediately thought. Was there a way out of this conversation, a way to defuse this time bomb?

"Not that much," he said. "You know, just the usual arguments people have."

Andy looked up from the board and directly at House, waiting for him to raise his eyes to meet Andy's stare. "Greg, look at me."

House looked at Andy, and immediately saw something new in Andy's eyes - wisdom, a simple understanding, and compassion. He looked away quickly, instinctively knowing what Andy's next question would be.

Instead of letting him ask it, House got right to the point. "Did my mom tell you something last night?"

"Not directly. She didn't volunteer anything, that is. But we spent all afternoon and evening together, talking about our whole lives, and I specifically asked her at one point why you and John didn't get along."

"What did she say?"

"She tried to deflect at first, and just repeated what she's told me before - that you didn't have much in common with each other. But I could tell she was upset. I knew that wasn't the whole story, and she finally admitted that he believed in military discipline, and sometimes used it when she wasn't around. She didn't go into details, but I was a Marine, and I know what military discipline can involve. In my opinion, it's not something that should be any part of child-rearing."

"I don't know what to say."

"But you can't deny it, can you?"

"No."

"Then that's all I need to know. I'm sorry, Greg."

"For what? It's not your fault."

"I'm just sorry, for you, that he ever mistreated you. And that Blythe was kept in the dark and was powerless to stop it."

"You don't blame her, do you? Because you shouldn't."

"No. I can see that she loves you, and there's no way you would've grown up to be the impressive man you are if she hadn't been a very good mother."

"You think I'm impressive? That's not the word I'd use to describe myself."

"What word would you use?"

"Oh, let's see. Screwed-up. That's the first thing that immediately comes to mind. And, on days like today, I'd add pathetic, and frustrated."

"You know what I see when I look at you?"

House shook his head.

"I see a brilliant guy, someone who could've done pretty much anything he chose to do. The fact that you chose to become a doctor, in a specialty where life and death decisions are routinely required – well, that tells me all I need to know. I know you've said you just like to solve intricate puzzles, but I don't buy it. You save people that would die otherwise, and no one can convince me that doesn't matter to you."

"But I've also hurt people - people who deserved better from me - my mom, Stacy, Lisa, my friend Wilson, even my dad."

"Why would John have deserved better from you, and how did you hurt him?"

"Well, it wasn't always bad between us. I mean, there were times when I looked up to him and we did sometimes enjoy doing things together. Looking back on it now, I'm starting to actually have some sympathy for him. I mean, for all I know, he may have doubted from the very start that I was really his son, and if so, that put him in an awful position. Sometimes he tried to get closer to me, to share sports or hobbies, and my typical reaction was to scoff at him and imply that I was too smart to be interested in what he liked. And then, when I was twelve, I told him directly that I didn't think he was my father. That was a cruel thing to do, and I think it devastated him."

"What was his reaction?"

"He stopped talking to me, for months, and I could see the hurt in his face every time I looked at him. At the time I was glad to see him suffer, but looking back on it, I do regret saying that to him."

"That doesn't excuse the way he treated you."

"I know. But I'm not as angry at him now as I used to be."

"Why do you think that is?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe meeting you has something to do with it, and finally being honest with my mom."

Andy nodded. "I can see that. You held in huge secrets and a lot of anger for a very long time. It's not surprising that you feel better now that you've shared some of it. It's like unburdening yourself."

"I think you're probably right about that."

"You may still consider yourself screwed-up, Greg, but, as I see it, everything you've done lately has been a step in the right direction. I'm glad to know you, and proud that you're my son."

House, unused to hearing things like this, and feeling awkward about what to say next, turned his attention back to the chess board. He moved a knight and then looked back up at Andy.

"Checkmate," he said.

Andy studied the board for several moments, and then ceremoniously knocked over his king, saying, "Foiled again."

"Sorry," House said.

"Don't ever apologize for your brain, Greg."

"It's gotten me in trouble sometimes."

"Maybe. But watching your mind work is almost like – I don't know, like seeing an amazing sunset, the waves in the ocean, or the Grand Canyon. It's a wondrous thing, like a marvel of nature."

House laughed. "Oh, Andy – forgive me. I appreciate the thought, but I've never been compared to the Grand Canyon before."

"I'm serious. I have no idea how my genes combined with Blythe's produced the genius that you are, but – there it is, there's no denying it."

"You're no slouch in the brains department yourself, and neither is my mom. If you want to try a game that she's likely to win, we can play some Scrabble later. She's a master at it."

"Colleen would like that. It's one of her favorite games."

At the mention of Colleen, House's face went dark for a moment.

"What's wrong?" Andy asked.

"Are you planning on telling her about, you know, what we just talked about?"

"It's up to you. I won't mention it if you don't want me to."

"I'd prefer that you didn't, but I suppose she'll figure it out eventually, so, do whatever you think is best."

Andy nodded, and stood up from the table. "Let's walk a little, Greg – I mean, if you're feeling up to it. I need to stretch my legs."

"Sure. So do I." He grabbed his cane and pushed up on the table with his other hand, rising slowly but steadily. Then he looked at Andy and said, "We're a fine pair, aren't we? I'd say we've got one good pair of legs between the two of us, but that's not really true anymore. You'll be walking well without any help very soon, I think."

"Thanks to you."

For a change, instead of downplaying his role in Andy's decision to have surgery, or denigrating himself in any way, House simply said, "You're welcome." Then he and Andy went outside to walk together.


	28. Chapter 28

That evening, Colleen left for home shortly after dinner, which was another great meal, including salmon grilled out on the patio, along with couscous and grilled zucchini and tomatoes, followed by a luscious chocolate mousse and fresh strawberries for dessert. She warmly hugged both House and Blythe before going, saying that she'd enjoyed the visit and wished it could have been longer, but she needed to get back to Nick and the kids tonight. She also said she hoped to see both of them again soon, and Blythe promised to keep in touch.

After Colleen left, House told his mother what he and Andy had discussed that afternoon. Blythe was relieved that he wasn't angry at her for her admission, as she'd been somewhat nervous about it all day and wasn't sure if Andy would mention it to Greg or what his reaction would be. He reassured her that he didn't blame her for telling Andy, and that he didn't really think it had been a shock to Andy, since he seemed to have deduced the truth on his own before even raising the subject with her. Then the three of them sat in the living room and watched some of Andy's home movies on the TV in the evening. Andy said that Colleen had them transferred to a DVD as a birthday present for him the year before, and it gave him the chance to reciprocate Blythe's afternoon narration with some of his own memories of Colleen as a child and stories about Ellie and the Connolly side of the family, which was large and full of colorful characters.

Later that night, after a long soak in the tub, House was comfortably settled in one of the upstairs bedrooms, giving Blythe and Andy some time to themselves, and trying unsuccessfully to avoid wondering exactly what they were doing with it. He attempted to erase that thought from his mind and to relax in solitude after his long day. This rather large room had once been Colleen's bedroom, Andy said, but was now a guest bedroom, with a queen-sized bed and its own flat-screen TV – a welcoming private sanctuary. He checked his phone and saw a text from Wilson, simply saying "Call me." He returned Wilson's call around ten o'clock, and Wilson answered quickly.

"Hey, House," he said. "How's it going?"

"Okay," House replied.

"That doesn't sound very enthusiastic."

"It was a rough day."

"Why?"

"I messed up. Didn't stop often enough on the drive, and I paid for it."

"Bad pain day?"

"Yeah. It's better now, but it took most of the day to really improve, and I was so pissed at myself for letting it happen."

"Well, it might've happened even if you had stopped more."

"That's a depressing thought, but I know it's true."

"So, did it affect your visit much? How did Andy and Colleen react?"

"They were great, mostly because my mom must've warned them about how surly I can get if people make a big deal out of it. They took it in stride, and didn't ask a lot of questions."

"Good for her. How are she and Andy getting along?"

"Really well. It's like a mutual admiration society, even after she told him."

"What do you mean?"

"She **told him**, Wilson."

"Told him? What - you mean, about your dad?"

"Yeah."

"Why'd she do that? Didn't she know you didn't want him to know?"

"I think he'd already figured it out anyway, but he asked her about why we didn't get along, and even though she tried to deflect with the usual vague answer, he could tell she was upset and he led her right to the truth. He was a trial attorney, after all. He's very perceptive, and can also be quite persuasive when he wants to be."

"So that's where it comes from - like father, like son. I'm a little shocked that he wasn't angry at her when he found out, though."

"Well, like I said, I don't think it came as a big surprise to him, and he wants to think the best of her. I think he's still crazy about her, actually."

"So it's more than a platonic friendship?"

"Maybe. She was coy about it, but I think it's kind of inevitable that something will happen between them eventually, if it hasn't already started."

"Wow. How do you feel about that?"

"I'm okay with whatever happens. They both deserve some happiness."

"How did she get along with Colleen?"

"At first it seemed as if Colleen was a little distant with her, but they took a long walk alone together in the afternoon, and seemed to get along better after that. Maybe my mom reassured her about being sincere in her affection for Andy. Colleen's very protective of him."

"So, all in all, it sounds like a successful trip."

"Yeah – for her at least."

"But you're not enjoying yourself?"

"Under the circumstances, I am, actually. I just would've had a better time if my leg hadn't been such a bitch most of the day."

"Maybe you should forget about attempting long drives on your own from now on. You should fly the next time you wanna go to Boston. Then you'll only have to drive to Philly or Newark."

"You're probably right, but I hate the fact that you're right. I hate the fact that as each year passes there are more things I can't do, or at least things I know I should avoid or have to think twice about trying. It's so limiting, and so damn frustrating."

"I don't know what to tell you, House. It is what it is."

"Yeah. Maybe Andy can visit me next time instead. He's doing really well."

"Rehab's been effective?"

"Oh, definitely. He's still using a cane most of the time, but he doesn't even really need it."

"You almost sound jealous."

"I'm happy for him, but I guess maybe I am a little jealous. I mean, the guy's seventy-six, Wilson, and he's in better shape than I am. I feel decrepit compared to him."

"That's just because you had a bad day today."

"His attitude's great too."

"Maybe that's 'cause both of you were there, and he'd been looking forward to seeing you."

"Yeah. He's got a new son, a new knee, and now potentially a new woman in his life, all in the last six months. Not bad for an old guy."

"You think you'll be okay to drive home tomorrow? Maybe you should stay an extra night and let it really settle down."

"Nah – I can handle it."

"Remember to stop this time."

"Oh, don't worry – there's no way I'm forgetting that again."

"Okay. Take it easy, House. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"'Night, Wilson."


	29. Chapter 29

On Sunday morning, after a restful night's sleep, House felt better than he had the day before. He still had his usual morning soreness and stiffness, which happened pretty much every morning, but a hot shower helped and then his leg was back to its typical status, which was the best he could expect. He dressed and went downstairs to find Andy and Blythe already up and making breakfast together. She was just finishing mixing batter in a large bowl, and a waffle iron sat on the counter, heated up and ready for use. Her homemade waffles had always been one of Greg's favorites, and he smiled at the sight of her doing this. Andy was busy at the stove tending to some sausage links, which filled the kitchen with a wonderful aroma. They seemed very much at ease with each other, and House's first thought on seeing them was that they were acting like an old married couple. He wondered again what might have happened between them the night before.

"Morning, honey," Blythe said, stopping her food prep for a moment to approach him for a kiss. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes. That's a very comfortable bed, Andy."

"We wanted to make it a relaxing guestroom for when relatives came to visit, and Colleen's old bed had seen better days, so the new one's only a few years old."

House stuck his right index finger into the batter and licked it off with a loud smack, as his mother gave him a look of mock exasperation. "What possessed you to make these?" he asked her.

"I know you've always loved them," she said, "and I wanted to do something special for breakfast."

"It's an unexpected treat. Thanks, Mom."

"How long do you think you'll be staying, Greg?" she asked. "I mean, even though my flight is this evening, you could stay an extra day if you think you need to."

"I don't think that's necessary," he said. "I'm feeling much better today and should be okay to drive home. I'll probably leave in the early afternoon."

"I just don't want you to have the same problem again," she said.

"Well, that's always a risk, but I'll stop more often this time. And, if I have to, I can switch to driving with my left leg for part of the trip. That'll help."

"You did that for quite a while in the beginning, after your surgery, didn't you? It always looked very awkward and uncomfortable to me," Blythe said.

He shrugged. "I got used to it. It's not that hard, really."

Andy came over to Blythe and put an arm around her waist. "I wish both of you could stay longer," he said, looking at her affectionately.

"So do I," she said. "But we'll make it a priority to come back soon. Right, Greg?"

"Sure. Or maybe when you're feeling up to it, you can fly down and visit me in Princeton," House said to Andy.

"I'd like that," Andy said. "Haven't been back to Jersey in quite a while, and I don't think I've been to Princeton since we played them in football when I was at Rutgers, which of course was ages ago."

"It's a beautiful campus, and a charming old town," Blythe said.

"Yeah, it is. I'm so used to it, I don't always appreciate it, but some of those old stone buildings are really amazing works of art," House said. "I don't have a place for either of you to stay, though. It's just a one-bedroom condo," House said.

"Oh, that's no problem," Andy said. "We could get a hotel room."

"We?" House asked.

"Yes, your mother and I – I mean, if we both visit at the same time," Andy said, somewhat sheepishly.

"One hotel room?" House asked, with a teasing glint in his eye.

"That's for us to know and you to wonder about," Blythe said.

"I don't think there's much to wonder about," House said. "You two are getting along very well, aren't you?"

Andy visibly blushed, and Blythe asked, "Is there some reason you don't want us to?"

"Oh no," House answered. "More power to you. Just be sure you're careful, you know? Wouldn't want to see either of you wind up in the emergency room."

Blythe laughed at him as she started putting food on the table and then added more batter to the waffle iron. "Let's eat," she said, "and change the subject."

When they were finished with breakfast and its cleanup, Andy mentioned that he had some "family artifacts" he wanted Greg to see. He opened a closet in the hallway and pulled out a long, large canvas bag, taking it into the living room and placing it on the floor next to the couch.

"Come here, both of you," he said.

"That looks heavy," House said. "What's in there?"

"Some family relics I thought you'd be interested in seeing. These were my father's, passed down from his father, who brought them from Scotland when his family emigrated."

The first thing he pulled out was a small tartan wrap, followed by a child-sized kilt, both in the same plaid. It was a pattern with deep blue and green blocks, intersected with black, yellow and red stripes.

"This is the tartan of clan MacLaren, and these go back to my grandfather's childhood."

House fingered the old wool and asked, "When was he born?"

"1881. They came to New York when he was fifteen, in 1896."

"What was his name?"

"Calum Andrew MacLaren. My brother and I called him Grandpa Cal. He was a funny fellow."

"Funny how – you mean humorous, or strange?" House asked.

"Humorous. He loved to tell amusing stories about people in the old country and to sing Scottish songs. He had a wonderful singing voice."

"Did your father ever wear these as a child?" Blythe asked.

"He said they sometimes used to put them on him to take pictures, and I've seen a few of those. He looked a little uncomfortable in the kilt, but he was an American-born kid, after all."

"I don't think you've ever told me his full name, either," House said.

"It was Gordon Neill MacLaren. He was born in 1911 and died in '96, at the age of 85."

"So, he lived a long life. What did he finally die of?" House asked.

"Heart attack. He was lucky, really. I don't remember him having any major health problems throughout his life, and the heart problems only started a few months before his death."

"Did your mother outlive him?" House asked.

"Yes, but only by a couple of years. She kind of gave up, I think. Colleen always says she thinks her Grandma Jane died of a broken heart."

"Well, that might've had something to do with it, but I'd be interested in knowing what her medical condition actually was," House said.

"It was blood clots in the legs. What is that called?"

"Deep vein thrombosis," House said.

"Right. DVT. That's what her doctor called it."

"One of the clots probably broke off and went to her lungs," House said.

"Yes, that's what happened."

"Is that hereditary, Greg?" Blythe asked.

"It can be, but I doubt my problem had any genetic component. DVTs aren't uncommon in older people, and my clot wasn't caused by a systemic syndrome – it was the result of an aneurysm and was an isolated event. What else is in the bag?" House asked.

"This is the real treasure," Andy said, pulling out a long black leather scabbard, and then slowly revealing an ancient sword inside, with a richly engraved handle.

"Is that a Claymore sword?" House asked. "I mean, a real Claymore sword?"

"Yes. Beautiful, isn't it? It's dated 1761."

"It's fabulous," House said. He ran his fingers over the handle, and peered intently at the engravings. "It must be worth a fortune. Ever seen _Antiques Roadshow_?"

"I'm not sure what it's worth, actually, but its monetary value never really interested me. I wouldn't sell it under any circumstances. It's always been in our family, and now, well, I'd like you to have it, Greg."

"Me? Are you kidding? No – it should go to Colleen or her kids eventually."

"I asked her about it. She wants you to have it too."

"Why?"

"When my grandfather gave it to my father, he said it was a symbol of bravery, and should be passed down to a family member in each generation who exhibited courage. My father got it because he was Cal's only son, and he served in World War II. My father gave it to me because my older brother had done some things that my parents didn't approve of, and they tended to see me as the model son who could do no wrong. They were also proud that I became a Marine and served in Vietnam. It caused a rift between me and my brother for a while, but he finally got over it and we reconciled."

"So why me? I've never gone to war or done anything especially brave."

"Yes, you have. You've had to deal with a lot of difficult things in your life. You've bravely handled living with a disability for a long time, and have used your amazing intellect to save lives as a doctor. I want you to have this, Greg, because you're one of the bravest people I've ever met."

House didn't know what to say, and just stared at Andy with an expression of shocked incredulity. Finally, Blythe spoke up.

"Andy, that's very generous of you. I'm … I'm speechless, really. It's wonderful that you want Greg to have this."

Suddenly House remembered the other sword - John's sword. He remembered pulling it down from the closet shelf all those months ago, and how the sight of it had triggered such different emotions from those he was feeling now. That sword reminded him of the anger, resentment, and fear John instilled in him, and those memories had spurred him to contact his mother and to find Andy. And now, here was another relic of the past, a treasure his blood father felt he deserved, just for being who he was, who he couldn't help being. He was overcome with emotion for a moment, and lowered his face, putting his hands over his eyes.

"What's wrong, Greg?" Blythe asked. "What are you thinking?"

He slowly regained his composure and looked at his mother. "I was just remembering – you know the sword I took after Dad died?"

"Yes. What about it?"

"He never would've willingly given that to me. He never even let me touch it. I only have it because he died and you asked me what I wanted. I never told you this, Mom, but that sword is the reason we're here today."

"What do you mean, honey?" she asked.

"Back before Christmas, I came across it in my closet, and that's the reason I called you and started asking all these questions. I wanted to know who my real father was, so I could move past the bad memories of Dad."

"Oh, Greg," Blythe said, starting to tear up.

Andy ran his hand back and forth across Blythe's back for several moments, and then said, "Greg, whatever it took to get you here, I'm glad it happened. I'd glad it brought you to me, and that it brought your mother to me. And I want you to have this. It belongs to you now."

"Thank you," House said, taking the sword from Andy's outstretched hands. "But there's something I want you to know. No matter what, I'll be sure to keep it in the family. I'll leave it to Colleen or to one of her children in my will."

"That's up to you, Greg."

"I'll do it. You can count on it."

"I'm sure she'd appreciate that, but the decision is yours."

House slid the sword back into its sheath and ran his hand over the old leather.

"When you look at this, and I hope you do often, remember why I gave it to you, Greg," Andy said. "Despite your mistakes, which I know you tend to dwell on, you're still a good person, a courageous person. That's how I want you to think of yourself."

"I wish I'd known you when I was growing up, Andy."

"So do I. But we know each other now, and that's a gift."

House nodded, and then simply said, "That it is."


	30. Chapter 30

When House finally returned home on Sunday night, weary from the drive but otherwise not in bad shape, he dropped his overnight bag on his bed and then carefully placed the sheathed sword on the floor, leaning it up against the armoire. He'd have to find a place of honor for this treasure. He didn't want to hide it away in a closet the way he'd done with John's relics. He wanted to look at it often, as Andy had suggested, because seeing it made him feel good. Seeing it made him feel valued, proud, and full of affection for his new-found family. Maybe he'd hang it on the living room wall, next to his prized guitars, he thought. Yes, that might be an appropriate place for it.

He'd spoken to Wilson during one of his breaks on the drive, telling him about Andy's gift, and now his cell was again chiming out Wilson's ringtone. Such a worrywart, House thought – Wilson was so predictable.

He answered the call and said, "Yes, I got home in one piece. You can stop worrying. I just walked in, in fact. Haven't even had the chance to sit down yet."

"Feeling okay?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah. I mean, not great, but not as bad as I did when I got to Newton."

House walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch.

"Did you remember to bring the sword into the apartment?" Wilson asked. "You can't leave something that valuable in your car."

"Yes, of course. I'm debating where to put it. I wanna hang it up in the living room. Do you think it should go next to the guitars or over the fireplace?"

"Actually, it probably should go in your safe deposit box."

"I know it's worth a lot, but I don't wanna do that, Wilson. I want it where I can see it."

"But where you can see it, everyone else can too. You don't want it to get stolen."

"Who's 'everyone else'? You're the only one who ever comes over here, and I think I can trust you."

"What about workmen – I mean, you sometimes have to call a plumber, an electrician, a piano tuner – no?"

"Jeez. Okay, I'll take it down and hide it if a stranger's gonna be here for any reason. Happy now?"

"Sounds doable. I just know this gift means a lot to you, House, and I'd hate to see anything happen to it."

"How do you know it means a lot to me? I didn't actually say that when we were talking before."

"I could tell, just from the sound of your voice. You sounded, I don't know, different, somehow, when you told me about it."

"Different from what?"

"From your usual cynical, snide tone of voice. Andy's really gotten to you, hasn't he?"

"God, nothing gets past you, does it?"

"That's what happens when you've been best friends with someone for over twenty years."

"So, what do you want me to say? You want me to tell you that Andy's a real mensch, in your parlance? That I was nearly moved to tears when he gave me the sword? That he's the father I never thought I'd have, with an uncanny ability to understand how my mind works and capable of an unbelievable amount of forgiveness and compassion? Is that what you want me to say?"

"Only if it's the truth."

"And what do you think?"

"I think it's the truth. Why can't you just admit it?"

"Oh, what the hell. Who am I kidding? I love the old guy, Wilson. I can't help it."

"Why shouldn't you love him? There's nothing wrong with admitting that, House."

"My mom loves him too. In fact, I bet she probably never stopped loving him, even through all those years of marriage to another man."

"Then I'd say there's obviously something there to love."

"So why do I feel so, I don't know, ambivalent about it?"

"You're probably scared."

"Of what?"

"Of losing him. He won't be around forever."

"None of us will."

"Yeah, but people you've loved in the past have left, and maybe somewhere in the back of your mind you don't expect him to stick around either."

"It's not the same thing. Stacy and Cuddy both had good reasons for leaving me."

"Right. And maybe you think Andy will still discover good reasons too, but I doubt it. He's already aware of the worst thing you've ever done, and, as you said, he's been understanding and forgiving about it. And then there's me."

"What about you?"

"I'm not going anywhere. I've never given up on you, House, and I never will. I'm proof that not every relationship in your life is doomed to end in rejection or failure."

"You're a sap, Wilson."

"Yes, but an astute sap. I know whereof I speak, my friend."

"Andy called me brave. Can you believe that? That's what he said when he gave me the sword."

"He's right. You are."

"Leaving the scene of a crime and escaping to a tropical island was brave?"

"No, but coming back to face the music was. Surviving nearly a year in prison was. And even beyond that, in your case, I think just getting up each morning and going to work is brave. I don't think I could do it if I were you."

"You don't know that."

"No. Thankfully I've never been tested in that way. But what other people would or wouldn't do is irrelevant. You're the one who's done it. You're still here, still going at it every day - slaying the dragons of death and disease with swords in both hands, no matter how you're feeling."

"You're the sappiest of saps, Wilson."

"Yes, but you love that about me. I dare you to deny it."

"You know how many people have told me they can't believe we're friends? They can't believe that the kind, saintly Dr. James Wilson would have anything to do with someone as nasty as me."

"They obviously don't know you the way I do. They only know the churlish character you've chosen to play."

"For the longest time I convinced myself I really was that guy – that I couldn't help being antagonistic and pushing everyone away. Really I was just trying so damn hard to avoid caring about anything or anyone, because I always believed, from my experience, that when you care too much it's a recipe for disaster."

"And now?"

"Now maybe I can just be myself."

"Don't get too nice too fast, House. Your team might think you have a neurological disorder."

House chuckled. "That would be fun to watch, actually."

"Also, I think I'd miss your snark if it faded too much into the background."

"Never fear. The snark will survive."

"Good to know."

"I'm beat, Wilson. See you at work tomorrow."

"Sure. Get a good night's sleep."

"You too. And thanks, Wilson."

"For what?"

"Just for being you. 'Night."

"'Night, House."

House put the phone down and then looked around the room, scanning the living room walls. He got up and went into the bedroom, taking the sword from the floor and bringing it back into the living room. He held it up to see how it looked in several spots, and then rested it lengthwise on the mantle above the fireplace. He could take his time deciding exactly where to hang it. He walked over to the piano, sat down, and started playing a bluesy improv, beginning in a minor key and then eventually morphing into a major key. Periodically he glanced up and saw the sword on the mantle. The music and the sight of the sword filled him with serenity. Maybe Wilson was right. Maybe the world wasn't such a cold, cruel place. Maybe it was worth taking a risk to believe in people – at least a select few people who'd proven themselves to him. He looked at the sword again, and thought of Andy and Colleen, of his mother, and of Wilson. Whatever was to come, for all of them, he knew he could count on them. He trusted in them now. He smiled as he played, and dared to hope for a brighter future.

**(Author's Note: Well, dear readers, we're at the end of this saga. I never expected it to go 30 chapters when I started it, and I think stories should have a beginning, middle, and end, so this is it. I'll probably write more House fics based on whatever canon gives us for the last few episodes of this memorable series, but this particular alternate reality [which I fully realize was a more uplifting journey for House than what the show is likely to provide] is over for now. Thanks for reading, and for all the kind reviews.)**


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